


Balinor's Daughter

by CordeliaKRose



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M, Female Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:46:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CordeliaKRose/pseuds/CordeliaKRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is raised by her father, Balinor, in the wilds to be a creature of weapons and magic. As she comes into her powers and reaches adulthood, they both know she must go to Camelot to fulfill her destiny. But she'll be damned if she doesn't do it her own way. Featuring: Fem!Merlin and other favorites such as Oblivious!Arthur and Bitter!Uther. M for violence now, may include dubcon and explicit content later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Balinor cupped his daughter’s face and gave her one last look.

“I’m proud of you Merlin. And I can still come with you if you will allow me.”

Merlin smiled sadly, “It’s too risky. Uther’s men would kill you in a second if they saw you. And even I can’t keep up a glamour spell indefinitely to disguise your features.”

She took a deep breath and set her shoulders.

“No. I have to do this. Alone.” At his weary look, Merlin rolled her eyes. “I’m ready, father, you’ve trained me well.”

Balinor smiled at that. His little girl, the expert marksman.

Not exactly what he had pictured when Hunith told him she was pregnant. He missed her terribly and cringed to think of what she would say, knowing that he was letting Merlin go back to Camelot while Uther yet lived.

But Hunith would never know. Balinor had already lost the first woman he had ever loved and now he was about to lose the second.

He walked back into the cave, shifting around some stones to reveal an alcove in the wall where he found what he was looking for.

“Here,” he offered two short swords to his daughter, hilt first, “I had these made years ago for your mother but she never got the chance to use them. They’re light enough to carry on long trips and wield simultaneously. I expect you to carry them at all times in case your magic isn’t available to you. And, of course, a new sheath to carry them in.”

She took the swords with a smile and swung one, testing the weight and balance.

“Thank you,” she smiled, “They’re beautiful.” She inspected the engraved hilts of the twin swords, noting the swirling patterns and foreign writing.

She strapped on her new gear and sheathed the swords. She picked up her bed roll, gathered her meager belongings, and hugged her father one last time. No goodbyes though, they never did those and she would see him again. One way or another, she knew she would.

The forest never seemed “quiet” to Merlin. Not the way it did to other people, at least. She could hear the birds and the wind and flowing water and deer running in between the trees. But the journey to Camelot was one and the trip gave her plenty of time by herself to think.

Merlin knew many things. She knew what Uther would do (or try to do rather) if he discovered she had magic. She knew her father’s loved ones had been duped and slaughtered by Uther because of his prejudices. She knew she would come into her powers when Balinor died. She knew that Kilgarrah would call to her when she arrived in Camelot, trapped by her father at the bidding of Uther. She also knew her destiny to protect his son, Arthur.

Balinor had never treated her like a child, not really. He had protected her, provided for her of course, but he had also always been honest with her, even blunt. Balinor had realized his daughter was special relatively early on when her magic manifested as soon as she was out of the womb.

He did not realize that she was Emrys though until the druids found them living as hermits and told him his duty to protect and encourage his daughter and her magic.

He had told Merlin all of this. She knew, she understood.

What she didn’t know, though, was how she would be able to protect the hellspawn that was Arthur Pendragon. His very conception and birth, all through black magic, had triggered the Great Purge. Every problem had its root in something, and the crowned prince of Camelot was the root of the oppression and persecution of magic. He was an abomination.

But according to the druids, he was _also_ the only way to bring magic and peace back to Albion to end the chaos that his very existence had caused.

She had suggested, at the ripe age of 9 years, that instead of protecting Arthur Pendragon, she could just kill Arthur and Uther, claim the throne for herself, and be done with it.

Balinor had been pleasantly surprised by her analytical thinking, but the druids though warned her that such a use of her powers would only lead to more bloodshed.

Merlin cracked her neck and she nostalgically remembered her time at the druid camps. As much as Balinor had appreciated their hospitality and guidance, the druids were too aggressively peaceful and their leader’s personality clashed with Balinor’s after a few short weeks.

For as long as she could remember, it had been just her and her father. Now she was going to live in a strange city filled with people who would hate the thing she loved the most about herself. All to unite a nation of people she didn’t even know.

Destinies were ridiculous, Merlin thought, what benefit would she be getting out of fulfilling hers? But here she was, in the woods, walking away from the only home she had ever known.

But she would do it. Live in the shadows as she had all her life, kill all those who threatened Arthur Pendragon, wait for his natural death, then return to her peaceful life, and wait. Knowledge could be a great burden and a comfort and this paradox was exemplified by her knowledge that her life was tied to the magic. She would never die so long as magic existed and as long as Arthur lived as well, she would be tied to him. It was the will of the fates.

As she crested a hill outside of the borders of Camelot Merlin tugged at her clothing. She wanted to be inconspicuous, but she also wanted to be protected and comfortable. Light leather armor should do the job well. Her eyes glowed golden as she transformed her clothing into bulky knee height boots, slim pants, and a vest. After a second thought, she added soft black underclothing that grew sleeves and a hood. She pulled the hood over her head, obscuring her face and long braid.

Satisfied with her sartorial choices, Merlin set foot into Camelot. It felt suffocating, like a magical desert. So different from the ebbing flow of earthly magic of the forest and the constant, comforting force from her father.

Still there were echoes, magic users she could vaguely sense through the web of the city.

As she stepped into the square she saw her nightmare and every mental image she had of Camelot realized. The execution of a magic user. She made eye contact with the man on the chopping block and heard a voice in her head.

“Help me, please.” His voice was desperate and broken, the stuff of nightmares.

Merlin filled with panic and anger, she had to do something! She scanned the castle, the crowd, the executioner. The handle of the axe was metal, the spell to overheat it was on the tip of her tongue when suddenly she heard a sickening crunch and it was over.

The rest of the scene was a blur. The grieving mother swore revenge.  This woman, Merlin realized with dizzying anger was meant to be her first victim in the quest to protect Arthur Pendragon.

Out of some sick joke, the fates had decided to make her an instrument of Uther Pendragon, becoming this silent angel of death using her feared and illegal gifts to kill her magical kin. Well she wouldn’t do it. She would speak with the woman, show her reason, give her an out.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Merlin was pulled out of her reverie as a group of thugs surrounded her. So much for keeping a low profile.

One of the other men answered his friends most likely rhetorical question, “A real pretty foreigner playing with Daddy’s swords it looks like.” His lips pulled back to reveal several missing teeth.

The third man looked her up and down and asked, “What’s a pretty little girl like you doing all alone in this big city?”

He reached out towards her but Merlin took a step backwards as the men began circling her.

“Leave me alone.” Merlin intoned, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention.

“Aw come on,” the man standing behind her used a mocking tone, “We only want to have a little bit of fun.”

 He used his own sword to tap one of hers and she immediately unsheathed both swords.

“Drop your weapons and I will let you leave with your lives.”

Their only response was a chorus of laughter. Merlin dropped into a battle stance and swung both of her swords.

“Come on, sweetheart, drop the act,” one cajoled, “You’re just going to hurt yourself swinging those around. What’re you going do with it, run me through?”

Merlin turned towards him and answered his question by doing just that. She knocked the sword out of his hand, grabbed his shoulder with one hand, and rammed her sword through his gut with the other.

“Yes.” She said simply as he fell to the group, blood bubbling up out of his lips.

She turned to the other four men.

“Leave now and never return to this place.” Her hood had fallen down and they were beginning to attract attention.

This was really not how she needed to make her debut in Camelot.

She cursed her inability to maintain a gender-transformation spell. A man in her position would never face this kind of harassment.

The men looked unsure, but the one with very few teeth, apparently the leader stepped forward with a sneer on his face.

“You killed my mate. And now I’m going to kill you.”

The remaining thugs unsheathed their weapons and advanced on her.  With the aid of her magical (and poison) enhanced swords she was able to keep them at bay for several minutes. But they had drawn a large crowd at this point and she couldn’t exactly spell them all unconscious.

Merlin was growing tired and the thick crowd didn’t allow for any easy escape routes.

She felled a second man, only serving to further enrage the remaining three who began swinging recklessly at her. She began blocking and parrying as well as she could with three men swinging at her at once

She was forced to focus on the leader as he relentlessly beat her back until she was trapped against a wall. She kicked him in the chest, knocking him into the ground, stepped forward and plunged her swords into his chest.

A loud clanging sounded directly above her as she bent over to retrieve her swords. She rolled out of the way, stood up, and turned around to see a soldier of some kind had intervened. He had blocked one of the men from running his sword through her back as she killed his leader.

Three down, two to go and, finally, it was an even fight. She turned to the last unoccupied thug, feeling a second wind of energy as she easily disarmed him and slit his throat.

She turned to watch the other pair for a moment, still surprised and confused by this stranger’s defense of her, before taking two steps back to the dueling pair and sliding one of her swords between the thug’s ribs. He fell to the ground with a grunt.

Merlin sheathed her swords and pushed the hair that had fallen out of its braid away from her sweat-slicked face. She took one last look at her mysterious defender, turned heel, and walked away.

“Wait!” He called after her, “Wait!”

She didn’t.

In fact, she hurried up her steps, not even sure what her destination was other than somewhere away from this man. He was. . . attractive, she would give him that. But that was just another kind of trouble that she also didn’t have room for.

He broke into a run and caught up to her, grabbing her wrist. She wrenched it out of his grasp and snapped at him, “What do you want from me?”

He took a step backwards.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes I’m fine. Perfectly fine, in fact, I really didn’t need your help. So don’t expect any gratitude from me you overgrown man-child.”

“Alright.” He took another step back and raised his hands palm outwards as if calming a wild animal, “Alright” He repeated, “It’s just that you’re bleeding,” he pointed to Merlin’s cheek. She reached up, surprised to find that he was right.

“You should have the court physician look at you.” He advised

Gaius, she remembered her father speaking of him. The traitor who had sworn allegiance to the King. He had also snuck her father out of Camelot during the Great Purge. Merlin needed to seek him out later.

“And,” he continued, “you should probably give me those weapons. Fighting is not women’s business.”

He reached for her swords and she angled herself away from him.

“Like Hell I will,” she growled, “Leave. Me. Alone.”

She turned and walked away again. Like a puppy, he trailed after her.

“But you were a maiden in distress! I came to your aid; don’t I at least deserve to know your name?”

She turned around and glared.

“No.” She kept walking. “And I wasn’t in distress. I had them _exactly_ where I wanted them.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “So you wanted the last one to stab you in the back? How unconventional. And rather uncomfortable sounding to be quite honest.”

“What do you want from me?” Merlin ground out, frustrated, tired, and hungry she realized as her stomach growled.

“I want to know who you are. I’ve never seen you before today. You come into my kingdom, kill five of her citizens, and then insult me. Who does that?”

“Your kingdom?” Merlin parroted mockingly, “And who the Hell are you, the King?”

“You know swearing is not very becoming on a woman. But no, in answer to your question I’m not the King. I’m his son.”

This was him.

There was only one thought in Merlin’s mind.

This must be a joke.

This overgrown man-child, this sword-wielding puppy, this walking talking fighting dandelion was the product of black magic, the hellspawn sprung forth from Uther’s seed and Nimueh’s spells. The ludicrousness of it all came crashing down on her and she began laughing.

Arthur was . . . surprised. Of all of the reactions she could have had, this was not what he expected. But then again, nothing about this afternoon had been expected.

And that was how she left the crowned prince of Camelot: in the middle of the square, slack jawed, sword still dirtied with blood watching her walk away.

What kind of woman, he wondered, could slaughter five men and walk away laughing? Surely not a sane one.

 This, he thought, felt like the beginning of a problem.

A problem that he should probably bring to the attention of his father.

But for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to do so.

So he sat quietly at dinner awaiting the Lady Helen’s promising performance, trying to generate reasonable explanations of what had happened earlier that day.

 His favorite theory was bounty hunter. It would definitely explain the leather. He had always pictured bounty hunters wearing leather. If he saw her again, he thought, he would get her name.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for all of the encouragement! I will definitely continue this story. Also this is my Merlin’s theme song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2uYs0gJD-LE

* * *

 

Merlin walked past the edge of Camelot, feeling relief wash over her as she stepped foot into the woods.

The smell, the magic of the earth, the druid camp only miles away did wonders for rejuvenating her. She walked until she hit a small brook, kneeling at its edge to clean her swords. The heat of midday at dried some of it and she had to scrape it off with her nails, her earlier frustration returning as she realized that she wasn’t _cleansing_ the blood just transferring it from her possessions to her body.

Merlin felt unreasonably hot and splashed water on her face. She was tempted to just be done with it and bathe or, at the very least dunk her head into the running water. But she couldn’t afford to lose awareness of her surroundings, even for a minute. Who knew how many other thugs hid in the woods, just waiting to prey on passersby.

Not that she was easy prey. Merlin had mixed feelings about the afternoon. Those were not the first men Merlin had killed, but something about the encounter had left her shaken. Merlin shook her head to clear it and pressed her hands to her sides to stop their slight trembling. She had a mission to do and certainly no time for self-pity.

Steeling herself, she wiped her still wet blades on the grass and tucked them back into their holster. She needed to find three things: the witch sworn to kill Arthur, the court physician and ex-sorcerer Gaius, and a place to sleep tonight.

Returning to the castle, she was surprised by the relative lack of security. None of the guards even attempted to stop her as she strolled through the hallways, easy as a bird, and visibly armed. She shrugged, it made her life easier, it’s not like they would ever be any help in protecting Arthur anyways. Not the way that she intended to.

Following the source of magic, she found herself outside of what was supposed to be Lady Helen’s rooms. Merlin crinkled her nose, the room smelled like death even from the hallway. Taking a deep breath of the cleaner hallway air, took a set of towels from a passing maid, and walked into the room.

“My Lady Helen.” Merlin spoke, alerting the witch to her presence.

The woman whirled around and stared at Merlin, taking in her leather armor, weapons, and towels.

“Why have you brought me towels, young witch?” The Lady demanded.

“Eh, I don’t know, thought I would keep up some pre-tense of not being here to kill you.”

“You’ve come to kill me? There are not many of us left sister, it would be a shame if you forced me to end your life so soon.”

“Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you.”

“You’ve lost me.”

“You are a threat to Arthur Pendragon. I am protecting him. Leave now and I will spare you. The execution of your son was unjust, but more death will not solve the situation.”

The Lady Helen’s face smiled sadly.

“How naïve you are. If you had children, you would understand that these old bones will not have peace until they have vengeance.”

“Very well. Then it appears you have made your decision.”

Merlin focused on her magic, calling lightning into her command, allowing it to crackle between her hands.

The old witch took a step backwards, shock evident on her face. Merlin took two steps forward, turning her palms towards her enemy.

The Lady Helen’s face contorted into a scream as she was electrocuted before retaliating with a spell of her own. Merlin was suddenly thrown backwards, knocking against the wall behind her. Before she could get up and counter the attack, the old witch was gone in a flash of smoke.

“Coward!” Merlin yelled into the air, kicking the back of a chair in frustration.

Merlin rubbed the back of her neck, returning to the castle corridors to begin her search for the witch anew. Before she could locate the witch’s magic, the castles bell tolled six times, signaling the beginning of the banquet. She cursed her inability to teleport herself as she raced through the castle.

Suddenly the woman’s magical signature became unbearably intense, Merlin followed it into the banquet hall, her magic slamming the doors open. At Merlin’s loud entrance, the witch turned around.

“You’re too late my dear.” She gestured to the cobweb-covered members of the court, “They will sleep for 100 years and when they wake it will only be to discover the rotting corpse of their beloved Prince.”

She resumed her siren’s song, and Merlin wondered why she needed to sing still if the spell was complete. Merlin was on one side of the room and Arthur was on the other, when she noticed the witch pull out a dagger as she stalked towards the royal table. Looking around she noticed the chandelier above the Lady, with a flash of gold the thing came down onto the old witch’s body, breaking the spell.

Slowly the members of the court began to wake and Merlin made her way over to the prince, checking for any signs of poisoning.

Suddenly, the old witch pushed herself off the ground and raised her dagger, throwing at the prince.

Merlin instinctively slowed time, pulling Arthur with her left hand and reaching to her belt with her right to unclip a small dagger which she threw a dagger at the sorceress. Merlin’s dagger met its mark in the witch’s left eye socket as its counterpart stuck in the back of Arthur’s throne.

The banquet hall dissolved into screams and hysteria as the ladies were escorted from the gruesome scene.

Merlin grimaced at the scene she had created, “Damned theater people. Always so bloody dramatic, even in death. Should’ve taken her head off her shoulders when I had the chance” she grumbled to herself.

In the midst of the chaos, Arthur looked up wonderingly at his savior. It was the woman from earlier in the market square. She was still grasping his red cloak with her left hand, holding him partially up as he knelt on one knee.

Noticing his staring, she released him and he stood, struck dumb.

Uther noticed his son’s slack-jawed expression and, though shocked himself, did his best to maintain his composure. He reached out to shake her hand, which Merlin accepted.

“You saved my boy’s life,” he said gravely, “a debt must be repaid.” He reached into his robes, searching for gold.

“You insult me with your money, Sire. It is not for your sake or even your son that I protected him, but for the nation.” Merlin bit out, turning to leave as she watched the guards struggle to remove the old woman’s body from the hall.

Suddenly unfrozen, Arthur walked after her, “Wait! Please, there must be something we can do to repay this debt. You’ve saved my life.”

“You defended me earlier today, the debt is repaid. All I wish now is to be left in peace.”

He nodded and stepped back, “At least then, please, tell me your name.”

She looked into his eyes for a moment, considering.

Names were powerful things.

Still she did not want to further incite his curiosity about her. She considered giving him a common name lie “Mary” or “Lynn” or even “Hunith.” But as long as he did not know her true name, Emrys, she supposed there was nothing wrong with knowing her birth name. So she sighed looked up and said simply:

“Merlin.”

The guards were still struggling to remove the old sorceress’s body from beneath the chandelier. As she walked past them, she bent down and retrieved her dagger from its victim, curling a lip in disgust as blood oozed from the wound.

* * *

 

Arthur stared at the ceiling that night as he lay in bed.

“Merlin.” He whispered, testing the name. It tasted strange in his mouth.

“Merlin.” He repeated. “ _Mer_ lin, Mer _lin_.” He tried. No, he thought, it still seemed strange. What kind of name was that anyways? Who was she?

It was humiliating to be saved from a woman by another woman. But at least his assailant had magic. His protector looked to be a teenage girl who weighed no more than a hundred pounds, with nothing obviously special about her.

His protector.

And that was another thing! She had said “I ‘defend’ Arthur” not ‘defended’ present tense. What was she? Some sort of dark guardian angel? Had his father asked her to watch over him in secret?

He shared his thoughts with his father at breakfast who merely laughed at his questions.

“Son, any citizen in Camelot would die for you. And so they should.”

“But she was a _woman_ ” he whined. “And where does a woman learn to fight like that? And why wasn’t she affected by the spell?”

 “My son, sometimes you must simply learn to be grateful. Perhaps her father was a soldier and taught her.”

“But I’ve never seen her before and surely we would know of such a weaponized daughter.”

“Arthur.” Uther switched from loving paternal tone, to a more commanding one.

“Yes, father?”

“Leave it. I will ask around, but do not go looking for her. I’m grateful that she came to our aid, but she is dangerous. Do not agitate her. I would not want to make an enemy of her. Now head along to your training I’m sure your nights are wondering where you might be.”

“Yes, my Lord.” He answered; feeling annoyed at his father’s condescending command, but accepting his dismissal.

* * *

 

Merlin awoke to ash at her feet, leaves stuck to her face, and a hilt digging into her side. A twig crunched nearby and Merlin lithely curled into a crouching position still dirty dagger at the ready. Slowly she straightened into a standing position, pressing her back against the tree she had fallen asleep beneath.

Reaching out with her magic, she sensed the area around her. One life form, nearby, not magical. Peering around the oak, the tension dissipated from her body when she saw the cause of her panic: a deer.

She was about to replace the dagger on her belt when her stomach growled. Peeking back to see if the deer had noticed her yet, she raised her weapon to eye level, before throwing it and felling the deer in one clean cut. She dressed the deer as her father had taught her and felt a bit silly when she realized she had nothing to cook it with.

It was relatively small, definitely a doe and light enough to carry round her shoulders. The weight was a burden, but nothing she couldn’t handle. She needed to find a new home.

The benefit of being raised in the woods was that she could survive anywhere. Still, a cave would be ideal and she decided to hunt for one. A little bit of magic could turn a rough cave into a relatively hospitable home. Something the druids had taught her and her father.

Eventually she came across one, dumping the deer on the floor and leaving to collect wood. Checking for nearby signs of large mammals and finding none, she used her magic to hack down two ancient trees and carry their trunks to her new cave.

Her magic carved them into the things she would need: a spit for roasting, a small cot to put her bed roll on, a table, and a small bureau. She carved a small hole above her fireplace for the smoke to escape, smiling at her little chimney.

She smoothed the stone out, turning protrusions into benches and cabinets until she met the end of the cave.  It was a good size, but also small enough that her witch’s light illuminated it without much effort. Small enough that she would recognize any intruders easily.

She wondered if a wooden door would be too conspicuous and decided that it was. Using the excess stone at the mouth of the cave and created a sliding door of stone that would respond only to her magic.

Exhausted, she returned to her wooden cot and collapsed on it only to hear a voice calling in her head.

_“Merlin”_ it whispered drawing out her name, “ _Merlin”_

The dragon, she realized, rocketing into a seated position suddenly as awake as ever. She practically sprinted to back to the castle, legs and lungs burning in protest. She reached the stone stairs guarding the entrance easily enough to see two guards chatting amicably. Casting an invisibility spell, she thanked God that the gates were already open and she wouldn’t have to alert the guards by clanking around down there.

She lit her witch’s light, a small glowing orb which trailed behind her, as the darkness threatened to swallow her whole without it. She reached the small cliff of the dragon’s abode and heard his laughter as she looked around, confused.

He must be very bored, she thought to herself, slightly annoyed at his antics. She extinguished her light and sat down on the ground, refusing to command that he show himself.

Dragons were powerful, she knew full well, and deserved respect even if they did not show it themselves. Besides, Kilgarrah was here in part because of her father so she decided that she could forgive his mind games.

Eventually he flew up, spreading his wings in an aggressive manor meant to declare dominance. Merlin would not be cowed. She gave a slight bow.

“Kilgarrah.” She offered simply.

The dragon, if possible, seemed surprised.

“Your father is alive.” He surmised.

“Yes.”

“You are not . . .” he paused, “what I expected. So small for such a great destiny.”

Merlin surpressed the urge to roll her eyes. Was everyone in Camelot this dramatic? Would she return to her father juggling flaming torches, doing cartwheels, and speaking in riddles?

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Not at all, young witch, in fact you are far more powerful than I would have assumed possible.”

“My father trained me well.”

“Trained you for what, I wonder.”

“To protect Arthur Pendragon.”

“So you know of your destiny.”

“I do.”

“And that you cannot escape it.”

“I do.”

“Then it appears I have nothing left to say to you. For now.”

And with that he flew off into the darkness leaving Merlin alone. Her first encounter with a dragon. She had heard so much of dragons: their power, glory, nobility, great knowledge from her father and she couldn’t help but be disappointed by Kilgarrah’s ridiculous performance.

Only slightly bitter, she left the castle, deciding to purchase, or re-appropriate, supplies from the markets, hopeful that she could also catch up on any news she had missed in the past day.

She would need a day job, she realized, as stalking Arthur though the best way of protecting him was probably not sustainable and this morning’s hunt was lucky. She could not count on deer and rabbits to feed her forever.

She paused as she passed an establishment called ‘The Rising Sun,’ the sounds of brawling attracting her curiosity. What better place to keep up with news and potential threats to the crown than a tavern? Drunken men were always gossiping and bragging.

Just as she was about to open the door, it banged open. An older man wearing a bartender’s apron was dragging a clearly drunk younger man into the street by the ear yelling after the drunkard that he was no longer welcome in ‘his bar.’

Curiosity peaked, she followed the man in and observed the aftermath of the bar fight. Men were nursing bloody noses, bandaging split knuckles, and picking up overturned chairs.

She went up to the bartender, catching his eye, “Looks like you’ve got a bit of a security problem.”

“And what would you know about is missy?” he asked.

“I know plenty about fighting.” She deadpanned, “and how to end it quickly. It looks like you could use my help.”

The old man snorted, “Expensive armor and pretty swords do not a warrior make. Prove you can break up a fight and I’ll hire you. Otherwise, buy a drink or get out.”

He turned around cleaning up the mess then men had made, pulling a dagger out of the dartboard. Seeing her chance, Merlin pulled out her trusty dagger and threw. Bull’s-eye, only a hair’s width from the man’s head. She smiled to herself as he turned around in shock.

“You could’ve killed me!” He accused.

“If that was my intention, you’d be dead by now. You won’t find anyone better than me, sir, to keep the peace at your bar.”

“Fine. You’ve got one night to prove it. Any more funny business and you’re out.” He handed her dagger back to her, “And dartboards are for darts! Not daggers! For Christ’s sake, I’m too old for this job.” he mumbled to himself.

Smiling brightly, she held out her hand and introduced herself, “I’m Merlin!”

“And I must be crazy, but the boys call me Tom. Welcome to the Rising Sun young lady.”

Merlin smiled even wider. She liked Tom and the Rising Sun. Maybe her stay in Camelot wouldn’t be so bad after all.

* * *

 

A/N: I felt that barmaid might suit our lady more than chambermaid. No doubt she’ll enjoy knocking around any of the patrons who try to get too friendly with her.

Thank you to Somebody, Michelle D, and Syd for their reviews. For reviews, please feel free to ask questions, discuss the plot, specific moments, or where you anticipate the story heading! Feel free to PM me I love talking with you guys :)

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

A/N: Hi everyone! Just so you know I don’t have an exact updating schedule, but I do have a lot of inspiration and free time this month so I will continue to update as long as there is interest in this story.

Secondly, I wanted to emphasize that this Merlin is _very_ different in this story as a result of her upbringing. Balinor is, most definitely, a hurt man who in this version has long everyone he has ever loved, except Merlin. Everywhere he failed to stand up to Uther, to protect him and his, he wants Merlin to succeed. He knows she is more powerful and can successfully restore magic to Albion. So he raised her to be able to survive in any situation and to achieve her ends, no matter the cost. Hopefully this will help to explain some of the actions she takes. At the same time, though, Merlin maintains her own sense of justice, of honor. In a way this story is an exploration on the theme of nature versus nurture.

Thanks to everyone who favorites, follows and _especially_ reviews! The comments definitely inspire me to write more. Sorry for the long note.

P.S. Sorry for any errors it’s 3 AM and I probably haven’t edited exceptionally well, but I wanted to update as soon as I could.

* * *

 

It was Merlin’s first night at the Rising Sun and it was more difficult than she had anticipated. The men were all, predictably, drunk. What Merlin didn’t realize was that most of them would also being uncharacteristically handsy and aggressive with her.

Her father never had access to alcohol and the druids certainly never drank to excess with this. Camelot was Merlin’s first experience with excessively drunken men and she didn’t think she liked it very much.

“Get me an ale would you sweetheart?” a man behind her grinned and smacked her backside. On instinct, Merlin grabbed his arm and wrenched it.

“Touch me again and I’ll cut your hand off and feed it to the dogs. Got it?” He nodded and gulped when he noticed the blades on her back and scurried out of the tavern.

Tom walked over to the bar after witnessing the exchange. He turned towards her with his hands on his hips:

“You can’t threaten every man that looks at you funny.” Tom said, “it’s bad for business.”

“Are all men such scumbags?” she asked in disgust before apologizing, “I’m sorry, Tom, it won’t happen again I just don’t want them to think they can get away with it.”

“I understand, but don’t let it happen again. You’re here tentatively, any wrong moves and you’re out. They say it ain’t right to have a woman bairmaid. It ain’t proper. But to answer your question, yeah, most of the men here are that way. Not bad men, just looking to let off some steam.”

Merlin grimaced. Maybe the Rising Sun wasn’t the bohemian paradise she had originally thought. Still, it was a job and that was something she needed. Or would prefer to have, at least. Even if she could support herself off of Camelot’s well-stocked woods (and it was becoming more apparent that she probably could) she still needed a cover story.

It would be a bit suspicious to only show up every now and then in Camelot to pull Arthur out of trouble. Working here at least would give her some semblance of legitimacy. Merlin curled a lip in disgust as two men across the room spat into their palms and shook hands at the conclusion of some seedy business deal. OK so maybe not legitimacy, but at least commonplace. People could write her off as a barmaid, it wouldn’t make anyone more curious about the strange girl who had saved the prince.

Merlin left the tavern at the end of the night feeling sore, tired, and a bit dehumanized. But her work for the night was not over. She had a couple hours before sunrise (despite its name, the Rising Sun actually did not stay open until dawn).

Cautiously, Merlin returned to the castle walls. She probably could have made it past the guards inside, but at this point it seemed easier to just go up through Arthur’s windows. Propelling herself upwards with magic, she climbed the stones easily enough before unlatching the window and entering his bedchamber.

Arthur lay sleeping in the huge bed, tangled in the sheets. He seemed to be having a nightmare as his face screwed up in fear and his chest heaved as he practically began hyperventilating.

Merlin whispered a soothing spell, watching the crinkles smooth out of his brow as he fell into a deeper sleep. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his face and chest and Merlin vaguely wondered what he was dreaming about.

Wondering was time spent wasted, she remembered, thinking of Balinor who like Arthur also suffered from nightmares. She had perfected her soothing spell over several years, allowing for a deep dreamless sleep which she now used on Arthur.

Sighing, she got to work, casting as many protection wards as she could over Arthur. As the sun began to threaten its arrival, she wove a final ward over him: an alarm, whenever he was in trouble or threatened she would feel it. Or at least, that was the idea. It was a ward of her own invention and she wasn’t sure if it would actually work. There was only way to find out.

 The risk of being caught in the prince’s bedchamber, despite the amusement factor of its implications, was too high and Merlin snuck out the way she had came before morning’s light peaked through the trees.

Finally collapsing on her cot in late-morning, Merlin slept well into the afternoon

* * *

Arthur felt like a new man that morning. He wasn’t sure what the difference was and attributed it to an exceptional night’s sleep.

Breakfast with his father and Morgana was quiet at first until Uther spoke up.

“I looked into the girl for you. She’s working at the Rising Sun. A barmaid.”

“A barmaid? Father that is unacceptable, we have to help her.”

“Morgana,” his father turned to the girl, “please leave us.”

“But—”

Uther raised both eyebrows, clearly indicating that this was _not_ the morning to argue with him.

“Fine.” She said standing up, “it’s not like I ever get to know what’s going on anyways.”

Once the door was firmly closed, Uther turned to his son.

“We offered her a reward, she refused, and now she has a job. She is not our responsibility.”

“Father, the Rising Sun is no place for a maiden. We both know this.”

“What makes you assume she is a maiden? A barmaid is hardly anything different from a whore.”

Arthur’s chair scraped as he stood up.

“Don’t speak of her like that! She saved my life! She is an honorable woman!”

“You are so quick to defend a woman you barely know, Arthur. My contact also informed that she lives in Childherric’s Woods. If you are so desperate to help her, go speak with her, I’m sure you can offer her a position as a scullery maid or some such thing.”

“Thank you father, for your generosity. I will.”

“Be prepared to be disappointed Arthur. Being an adult and a leader is about realizing that you cannot control the choices of those around you, only your reaction to them. Some people are best left to fulfill their purpose and then forgotten. She saved your life, her purpose has been served.”

Arthur clenched his jaw. It was useless trying to reason with his father when he got this way.

“Thank you for the generous information and allowance to offer her a position, father, I am truly grateful.”

Uther waved him away.

* * *

Childherric’s Woods were bigger than Arthur had realized.

He had been walking for hours and there was still no sign of his mysterious protector.

“Sire, perhaps we should return to the castle. They will stop serving dinner soon.” His useless squire whined.

“No. I’m here to find Merlin and that is what I will do. Look there smoke!” he pointed above the tree tops less than a mile off to grey spiraling puffs in the sky, “that _must_ be her. No one else lives in these woods!”

* * *

Merlin firmly believed that there was always a good and a bad part of every situation. As she leapt out of her bed and quickly pulled on her boots and blades she realized the same theory applied to this situation.

The good: her alarm ward worked.

The bad: Arthur was in trouble. Mortal peril to be exact.

* * *

“Sire?” one of the knights asked.

“It’s quiet . . . too quiet.”

The camp was too big for just one person. There were beds and hot food still laying out in the camp. It had been recently deserted, the fire still smoking as it had been when Arthur first followed the smoke.

Maybe Merlin had family? Or maybe, he realized as an arrow flew past his head, this was a trap.

* * *

Merlin focused on Arthur’s life force. He was fine, he was  _fine_ . She sprinted through the woods, jumping over fallen trees and brooks.

As she neared the scene, she could hear the sounds of battle from quite far off. Steel on steel clanged. She crept up, casting an invisibility spell as she moved forward to better assess the situation.

They were greatly outnumbered.

The squire and the one of the two knights Arthur had brought with him were already dead.

The bandits moved in forming a circle around Arthur.

“Well, well, well,” the leader moved forward and tugged at Arthur’s shield, “Arthur Pendragon, prince of Camelot, you honor our humble camp with your presence.”

The bandits snickered around him, brandishing their weapons menacingly.

“You’ll never take me alive!” he dramatically spun his sword and Merlin cursed him under her breath.

“Ah just as noble as we were told,” said the leader, “well, if you truly are as noble as they say, then you will come peacefully with us, if not for your own sake, then for your companion.” He nodded towards one of his comrades who, in a split second, had his knife poised at the remaining knight’s throat.

“Now, drop your sword. You’ll get us a fine ransom, you will.”

Arthur complied, allowing them to bind his hands as they led the two soldiers deeper into their camp which Merlin now realized was around a ruined fort. They bound and gagged the pair before dumping them on the ground.

The men sat around the fire, eating, drinking, and congratulating themselves. Merlin sighed to herself. She needed to find a way to find a way to free Arthur and his knight without any hint that she had used magic.

Her ability to find them alone was already suspicious. She sighed again as she realized this was going to be a long night.

Once the majority of the bandits had drunken themselves into a stupor, she cast a deep sleep spell and crept forward.

Reinforcing the deep-sleeping spell on the hostages as she cut off their bindings. It wouldn’t do to have them waking too soon. Any excess noise needed to be avoided. The spell caused the recipient to fall deeper into sleep, but it was no coma, any disturbances and they could all three be prisoners instead of just the two of them.

Once she was satisfied, she silently removed two of the bandits swords and placed them next to the boys she was saving.

Putting her hand over his mouth, she woke Arthur first. He struggled at first, making slight sounds of indignation.

“Shhhhh Arthur, it’s me Merlin, I’m here to save you.”

She pressed the sword into his hand.

“I’m not leaving without Leon.” Arthur declared.

“Calm down, I’m not either.” She pointed to the body next to them. “Now shut up, we don’t need this whole camp to wake up.”

“How did you find us?” he asked.

“What don’t you understand about ‘shut up’?”

Leon was much more accommodating than his liege and maintained his silence even as he woke up and she pressed the sword into his hand, quickly cottoning on.

Unfortunately for all three of them, Arthur was not much of a morning person and, despite the measures taken to make a silent escape ended up tripping over a bandit on their way out who began screaming bloody murder when he saw their two greatest treasures attempting to escape.

“Great.” Merlin said, “Now we’re fucked.”

The three of them moved back to back to cover one another as the bandit’s came wildly at them. They were outnumbered four to one and Merlin knew she needed to add a little something special.

The heavens opened up and began to pour. Thunder and lightning riven the sky and Merlin was so tempted to just electrocute all of the bandits who dared attack her.

But she could not, not yet.

So instead she stood by her comrades and fought bravely. Only occasionally using magic to give her stabs a bit of extra force. A pile of bodies began to stack up in front of her as she waited for the bandits to come to her. And then, suddenly it was over. They were dead. All of them.

What had she become, Merlin wondered, as she realized her body count had gone from two to twenty-two in the past week. Maybe Uther was right, magic-users were monsters.

“Come on,” Leon finally spoke up, “we need to get back, they’ll be missing us. We’ve been gone almost a full day.”

* * *

 

Uther was not happy.

“And where, might I ask have you three been?” he demanded.

Leon spoke again, “My Lord, as you may know Prince Arthur, Knight Greene, Squire Jonathon, and I left for Childherric’s Woods yesterday morn. Today only Prince Arthur and I return. We were captured by bandits. Somehow Lady Merlin found the camp and managed to save us.”

“It’s rather suspicious, I think,” Uther began, “that in the few days you have been here Lady Merlin you have saved my son twice. Rather auspicious timing, wouldn’t you say?”

“With all due respect, my Lord. I don’t believe auspicious is an appropriate term to use at the time of anyone’s death be they friend or foe. Truthfully, I want only to live a life of peace.”

“And yet you keep finding yourself at my son’s side.”

“The fates have a strange will.”

“Indeed they do.” He gave her an odd look, “I assume you will not accept an award.”

“You assume correctly, my lord.”

“Then you are dismissed.”

* * *

Uther and Gaius sat in the King’s bedchamber later that evening.

“I don’t trust her.”

“Why not, my lord?”

“I don’t know Gaius . . . there is just something about her. It’s so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Do me a favor and find out everything you can about this girl.”

“Yes my lord I shall do my best, but there is one problem.”

“And what, might I ask, is that?”

“Well sire you have not told me this young girl’s name.”

“Her name,” Uther said, “is Merlin.”

Merlin. Could it be? But how many other Merlin’s could there be in the world?

“It will be done my lord. But please, do not concern yourself over the girl. From what I can tell she seems to be well intentioned and simply in the right place at the right time.”

“You really think so?”

“I do.”

Gaius hurried out of the King’s rooms. He had research to do.

BREAK

It was Merlin’s second night at the tavern. No big deal that she had saved the King’s son the night before.

It seemed like the King was trying to keep it quiet, but stories as scandalous as this spread like wildfire and soon it seemed to be the only thing anyone at the Rising Sun could talk about.

She was met with flurries of questions from the customers all of which she did her best to avoid. There was so much excitement, in fact, around the short trip of the prince to Childherric’s Woods and his kidnapping that Merlin only barely found out about the tournament happening the next day.

She had thought that the bar seemed more crowded than the other day but, then again, it was only her second day so she didn’t have much to compare it to.

Merlin was wiping down the tables and ignoring bawdy comments when it hit her.

There was a new magic user in Camelot.

* * *

Merlin knew who the new magic user was. It had been easy enough to track him down during the first day of the tournament. She followed him until she was sure they were alone before confronting him in the armory.

 “Magic is illegal in Camelot.”

“Indeed it is.” Valiant turned around carefully.

“It would be best for you if you were to withdraw from the tournament now and leave while you still can.”

“Are you threatening me, little girl? And what are you going to do about it?”

 “If you don’t withdraw I will kill you.” She answered simply.

“How could _you_ kill _me_?” He asked acerbically.

“Easily. Any man who lets creatures fight for him must be a coward and subsequently easily defeated when deprived of his magical toys.”

His hand rose to backhand her and she moved away to avoid it, but not quickly enough as the back of his hand scraped her face, re-opening her scabbed over wound. She pulled her swords out preparing to fight.

“You will regret that, sir.” She promised. He scoffed.

“When I’m done with you,” he threatened, “you’ll be on your knees begging for mercy.”

The door creaked open and both turned to face the intruder.

It was Arthur. Merlin kicked herself for getting distracted by Valiant’s ploys and not realizing Arthur was nearby.

“Merlin?” he asked, confused. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course my Lord.” She answered moving to leave.

Valiant sighed, picking up his shield, and moving to leave the armory. As he passed Merlin, he checked her with his shoulder and she hissed in pain.

Alone, Arthur and Merlin stared at each other for a moment.

“What happened?” he demanded to know.

“Nothing, Arthur. I’ll take care of it.”

“Take care of what? That man attacked you!”

Arthur stepped forward, reaching for her face, but Merlin ducked out of the way.

“And how do you know I didn’t provoke him? I’m fine, Sire, you have my word. Please let me pass.”

“What are you even doing in the castle?” He asked.

“What were you doing in Childherric’s Woods?”

 _Looking for you._ Was that her answer? Had she been looking for him in the castle?

He stepped backwards to allow her by.

“Why is it,” he asked, “that whenever I see you, you’re always in some kind of trouble?”

“What can I say?” she shrugged, glancing over her shoulder as she left the room, “I make friends everywhere I go.”

Arthur felt . . . uneasy. He knew that not all knights were the paragons of honor his father’s knights were, but still. Striking a maiden, even one as fearsome as Merlin was against the knight’s code. Even if she did provoke him.

It seemed all she could do was provoke. Provoke him, his father, the bandits, Valiant.

Arthur shook his head to clear it.

Merlin was a damned distraction, he needed to focus on the upcoming tournament, or he would be the one in trouble.

* * *

Arthur was losing. It would be so easy, she thought, one dagger to Valiant’s thick skull and it would all be over. But he would never forgive her: glory and honor etc etc etc

So she did the next best thing, whispering under her breath as she moved to the front of the stands, Merlin commanded the snakes to reveal themselves. They came off of the shield, writhing and spitting. Triumphant, Merlin watched Uther’s reaction.

“He’s using magic!” the King exclaimed.

Surely he would have to call the match off now.

“What’re you doing? I didn’t summon you!” Valiant panicked.

Merlin looked again to Uther. Why wasn’t he ending the tournament? Where were the guards? Why was Valiant not being hauled off to the dungeons this very moment?

Upon Valiant’s command, the snakes she had summoned came completely off the shield onto the ground and Arthur was unarmed and no one was _doing_ anything!

Did Uther _want_ his son to die?

One bite and it was all over. Why wasn’t anyone helping Arthur?

“Fuck it,” Merlin swore as she jumped over the barrier, landing roughly on her feet in between Arthur and the snakes. Pulling out her dual blades, she decapitated the two snakes at her feet in a sweeping X motion and advanced on Valiant.

With three swift moves he was disarmed and impaled by Merlin’s sword. She held him close and whispered in his ear, “Why didn’t you just leave when I warned you? They never listen.” She shook her head and jerked her blade out of the body allowing it to fall to the ground.

Valiant stared up at her with dead, vacant eyes.

The crowd was dead silent for a beat before erupting into wild cheers. Merlin scoffed. Hypocrites. They claimed to support peace and hate magic, yet they watched men kill each other for fun, they reveled in it and did nothing to stop magic when they did see it! Even to protect their prince!

She turned and left the stadium.

Arthur came thundering after her his face red with embarrassment and indignation, “What the bloody Hell was that?!”

“That was me saving you for the third time this week. A bit of gratitude would be nice, you know.”

“Gratitude! Gratitude for what? For humiliating me? For stealing my title? I didn’t need you to save me!”

Merlin realized that she was on autopilot and Arthur had followed her into the woods, towards her home. She made a sharp turn right; she didn’t want him to know where she slept. Not yet at least.

“Funny how I said those very words to you the other day and you just told me to hand over my weapons.”

“So what? Is this revenge for that? For making you look weak in front of the market square by defending you against those ruffians? Tit for tat? I thought you said we were even, the debt repaid.”

“Have you always been so insufferably self-absorbed? Does it come with the title? Oh wait, that’s right I forgot. _You_ _don’t_ _have the title_ because you, Arthur Pendragon, are still a _child_ here in Camelot. Maybe if you stopped acting like a child and started acting like a prince, you’d realize that the world does _not_ revolve around you. So have your little temper tantrum, whine and cry all you like out here in the woods, but you’d better buck up before you get to your feast if you ever want your people to respect you.”

And she left him there, gobsmacked and half lost in the middle of the woods for approximately five minutes before turning around and following him out to make sure he got back to the castle safely.

He was a surprisingly good navigator and only took a few minutes longer than it should have if he had retraced their steps.

Merlin leaned against a tree and took three deep, calming breaths waiting until he was a safe distance away to return to the castle.

* * *

Meanwhile, Uther declared the tournament null and void based on the illegal use of magic and announced that the feast would be dedicated to his son’s health.

Truly, the feast would continue as planned without the crowning or anyone referred to as champion.

Merlin stood in the hallway by Arthur’s bedchamber waiting for him. She didn’t know what she was going to say to him when she saw him, only that she needed to speak with him.

She rapped on the door twice.

Arthur opened it.

They stared at each other for a moment before he opened the door wider.

“Erm Merlin, come in, please.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for your aid this past week, Merlin. I’m sorry for the way that I have treated you. I am . . . unused to being protected by someone who isn’t paid to do so by my father. I have been inexcusably rude to you; I hope you can forgive me.”

“Right.”

“. . . that’s it?”

“What’d you expect me to say?”

“Oh I don’t know, I’m sorry for ruining your tournament and being rude to you as well!”

“You can’t give an apology to get an apology!”

“Well why not _Mer_ lin?”

“Because that’s just the way it works!”

A beat.

“But I am sorry that I embarrassed you. It was not my intention. But I do not regret intervening. If your safety is not reason enough for me to have intervened take comfort in this: the man had besmirched my honor and, as according to the knight’s code, it is within my rights to kill him.”

“Besmirched your honor?”

“Did he—”

“No,” she answered quickly, “he would not have survived to participate in your duel if he had tried. Just words.”

“I see.”

“Yes.”

She smoothed her shirt.

“So that’s it. I’ll just . . . I’ll just go.”

“You should come to the feast tonight.”

“No I shouldn’t. I’m no lady.”

“Well tonight you will be. Even if my father won’t admit it, techinically you _are_ the champion.”

“Oh really?” she raised an eyebrow, “Because I heard that it was to toast your good health. Which, admittedly, I am also responsible.”

“Very funny. Now go borrow a dress from Morgana and enjoy the feast.”

“I’m not wearing a dress.”

“You must to sit at the table.”

“I prefer standing.”

“Very well. Till then, my lady.”

He grasped her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it lightly and whispering, “My champion,” with a slight bow.

Merlin tugged her hand out of his grasp and smacked him upside the head.

Arthur’s yelp of pain could be heard by servants two floors below.

* * *

“My Lady.” Arthur offered his arm.

“My Prince.” Morgana accepted.

 “That was some tournament final.” His voice was only slightly tinged with bitterness.

“Tell me about it. It’s not every day a girl gets to save her prince.”

“Merlin didn’t _save_ me. I didn’t need saving. I’m sure I would’ve thought of something.”

“Really? Because it seems to me like Merling _saving_ you is a pattern and you are just too proud to admit you were saved by a girl!”

“Because . . . I wasn’t.”

“You know what? I wish Valiant was escorting me.”

“Me too. Because then I wouldn’t have to listen to you.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

And with that he stalked off.

He startled as Merlin stepped out of the shadows behind him.

“Can you believe Morgana? She thinks I actually would have lost if you hadn’t stepped in. As if I needed saving.”

“You will always need saving. And I will always be the one to save you.”

His mouth fell open at her declaration and he turned around to gape at her. Their eyes locked and the intensity of the moment was almost unbearably intimate.

It was broken only seconds later when Uther stood to make an announcement.

“Friends, tonight we celebrate the health of my son, Arthur.”

He paused for the applause with a smile.

“It appears that these past couple weeks have been unusually dangerous for him.”

Smattered laughter.

“But he has pulled through all of these conflicts incredibly, thanks to the help of one very formidable and honorable young warrior: the Lady Merlin.”

Merlin was pushed forwards by hands behind her and suddenly was standing in front of Uther.

“It is in light of these recent events,” Uther continued, “that I have decided to reward the Lady Merlin with a special position in the royal household. As she has saved my son not once, nor twice, but _three times_ it seems only appropriate that she be officially appointed as Royal Protector of the Pendragon Bloodline, namely my son Arthur. Congratulations, Lady Merlin and thank you for your service.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it as the crowd applauded again. He smirked at her shocked expression. Finally, he had the advantage. He was still suspicious of her, but at least with her in an official position, he could monitor her at every hour of the day.

Merlin gave a small bow of thanks, feeling horribly out of place and wishing she had taken Arthur’s advice about borrowing a dress from Morgana as she scurried back into the shadows.

It had been . . . a long day. And there was nothing she wanted more now than to go home and sleep. But she was stopped by a voice as she went to exit the corridor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” It was Arthur.

“Home.”

“You are my Protector. This is your home now.”

She turned to face him.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either to be honest, it’s an archaic position that hasn’t been occupied in centuries but apparently my father finds it necessary. From now on you will sleep in the room adjacent to mine.”

He looked at her searchingly, trying to find a reaction in her schooled blank face.

“We will always be together now, Merlin.” He chuckled, “At least until one of us dies.”

* * *

 

A/N: This chapter basically wrote itself. Next up: Nimueh, adjusting to life with Arthur, and resolving the situation with the Rising Sun.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin was tired. Arthur had spent the entire night drinking and laughing with his friends, being a visible presence and strengthening his connections to members of the court. But it was the wee hours of the morning and she had had a long day.

Their eyes met across the room. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head towards the door. He nodded once in response.

"Well chaps," he clapped them on the shoulder, "It's been great, but I think I'm off to bed."

His knights and friends groaned in disappointment, calling him to stay and not be such a wet blanket. When he walked to Merlin and followed her out, the groans turned into catcalls.

Merlin wanted to shock them all where they were sitting. How dare they not respect her? She had killed a man, a sorcerer, easily in front of the entire court. What would it take to earn respect in the court at Camelot?

Scowling, she stalked in off towards where she thought Arthur's room was.

He jogged a bit to catch up with her, "Ignore them. They're just drunk." He giggled, "but then again, so am I!"

Merlin just rolled her eyes.

"Where're we going  _Mer_ lin?" Arthur slurred.

"To sleep Arthur."

"Then why're we going to the kitcha–kitchens?"

"By all means," she gestured, "lead the way."

"Very well, my Lady." He sing-songed and bowed ridiculously; bending over so far she was certain he would fall. But he didn't; he straightened and offered her his hand.

She took it cautiously as he led them down a new corridor, hiccupping occasionally.

How had this become her life.

Several minutes he stopped in front of a door.

"Here we are." He stood stock still.

God, couldn't she just start tomorrow? Wasn't there a manual for this? What was the protocol for when both of them felt awkward and Arthur was drunk and she just wanted to go to sleep.

Right. She opened the door and gestured for him to step inside the apartments.

"No, no, after you my Lady  _Mer_ lin."

Drunk Arthur was so obnoxious, she thought, like a more affected and concentrated version of himself.

"If you insist, dandelion."

"What'd you call me?"

"Nothing, my liege. Where's my room?"

He walked to the left of his bedside bureau and pressed his palms to the wall. He began pushed his palms up and down the wall in irregular patterns, moving his torso as he did so. It almost looked like a sort of dance.

Alcohol, Merlin decided, was a bizarre and terrible thing.

Then, she heard a click and Arthur triumphantly straightened up.

"There it is!" A section of the wall swung forward to reveal a new room. Merlin stepped forward to take in her new accommodations.

She was reluctantly impressed. There was a well-stocked miniature-armory in her room. Her small bed was pushed against the wall bordering Arthur's bed, so that her sleep would be disturbed by anything in the next room.

"What'd'ya think?" Arthur poked his head around the door frame.

"I think," Merlin said, "that it's time to go to sleep." She pushed his head out of her room and went to shut the door.

"But  _Mer_ -lin I need your help!"

She sighed and stepped back into the room.

"What do you need, my Lord?"

He raised his arms up, expectant.

". . ."

"Well don't just stand there  _Mer_ lin come undress me."

"That is so  _not_  my job." She grumbled. Arthur's eyelids began to droop and she guided him towards the bed.

"G'night Merlin." He said as she laid him down.

"Good night Arthur."

She shut the door between them and fastened the latch, finally falling asleep.

* * *

There was no window in Merlin's room. Which made sense with it being a hidden room and all that, but it also made it impossible for her to tell what time of day it was.

Subsequently she had woken up too early and was seated in Arthur's window seat, watching over him and his city as he slept.

She had opened the curtains to look out the window, considering the changes that had dictated her life since arriving at the urban center. It was not yet dawn, but it would be soon. She took these precious moments of solitude to evaluate her mission thus far.

If she were honest with herself, she felt out of control. She had wanted to remain anonymous and now she was so past the point of no return on that one. She still hadn't spoken to Gaius and needed to go to Tom.

And now she had practically lost her freedom too. She wanted a bathe, some food, and the privacy of her cave in the woods. She could go get food, but for some reason she didn't want to Arthur to wake alone. She startled. What an odd thought.

Morning glow began to warm the window and wash through the room, cracking open Arthur's eyelids as it did so.

"Merlin? What're you doing in my rooms?" he sat up and groaned, "Ugh what happened last night?"

"You don't remember?"

It came back to him. "You're my Protector."

"You do remember then."

He fell back into bed and groaned, "I feel terrible."

"It's your own damn fault."

"Thanks for the sympathy, now make yourself useful and fetch me some breakfast, would you?"

"No I will not. I'm here to protect you not babysit you. First with the clothes and now with breakfast it's not my job to take care of your every need, just make sure you don't die."

"What do you mean 'first with the clothes'?"

"You asked me to take your clothes off last night."

Arthur's face flushed pink.

"No I didn't."

Merlin smirked, he was embarrassed!

"You sure did. Raised your arms up like a child and asked for help!"

"Well that explains why I'm still in them then." Arthur sighed in relief. So he hadn't propositioned her then, thank God.

"Besides I don't even know where the kitchens are."

"Come on," he stood up, "I'll show you."

Before they could leave though, the door opened to reveal a boy with a tray of food.

"Begging your pardon my Lord, my Lady, but the court genealogist has requested your presence as soon as you have broken your fast."

"Thank you Gordeg, you are dismissed."

The boy bowed and backed out of the room.

"This is surreal," Merlin told Arthur as they sat down to eat together.

"What is?"

"Everyone calling me 'my Lady' or 'The Lady Merlin' it's bizarre."

"Why? It's your title."

"Titles are bizarre."

"Well how else would we refer to one another."

"By name. . .?"

"Do they not have court titles where you come from?"

"Finish your breakfast." She deflected his question.

"Why don't you ever speak of your home?"

"The woods are my home."

"Yes but where in the woods? And I mean before you came to Camelot. You use strange phrases, wear odd clothes, and somehow learned to fight like a soldier. You are from somewhere, you didn't just drop out of the sky so tell me,  _Mer_ lin, where are you from?"

"We should go to the library."

"Merlin! I am  _ordering_  you to tell me where you are from."

"Fine: here's your first hint. You can't order me to do anything because you're not  _my_  prince. I was born and raised in another's kingdom."

She stood up and left clearly going to the library and after a few minutes, Arthur followed her.

* * *

"The Royal Protector," the court genealogist (and apparent historian) explained, "is an ancient role usually taken up in times of war or extreme distress to ensure the safety of the heir or heirs to the throne in this case, Arthur.

"You will be sworn in to protect Arthur and any of his or Uther's future offspring. For now, though, you are to focus solely on Arthur. You must know where he is at all times of the day and night and may be called upon to report back to the King at any time.

"You may only leave Arthur for periods of up to half an hour. Leaving the prince is defined by being outside of his perceptive fields, ie he must be able to hear, see, or perceive you in some way.

"At night, you will notice that the wall separating your beds is uncharacteristically thin to allow you to easily speak with one another to communicate any possible threats.

"Any action you take that the King perceives to put his son in danger is grounds for your execution. This includes threatening the legitimacy of future heirs.

"Have I made myself clear?" He lowered his glasses and glared at her. She wanted to spit in his face.

"You mean I can't bear any of his bastard children or you'll kill me before the babe has quickened. Yeah I get it."

Arthur gasped, "Surely that wasn't necessary Geoffrey." He turned towards Merlin, "Please don't refer to yourself or I in such a crude manner; it dishonors both of us."

"My apologies, my Lord," Geoffrey bowed, "Your father requested I discuss it."

"Sorry, sire." Merlin felt her face warming up. She needed to work on her temper.

Arthur nodded stiffly. Sometimes he wished he weren't prince so that everyone from the scullery maids to Geoffrey the court genealogist wouldn't spend their days wondering about the fruit of his loins. He wasn't an animal, for God's sake, he could control himself!

With that, he turned and left the library, Merlin trailing five paces behind him as they made their way to the Great Hall for the ceremony.

The swearing-in ceremony was essentially a formalized version of the genealogist's list of responsibilities with Merlin solemnly swearing to uphold each of them upon pain of death. Officially installed as the Royal Protector, Merlin took her place standing behind Arthur.

* * *

After a couple weeks at court, Merlin and Arthur had settled into a routine. She would wake before him, dress, update him on anything he missed during the night as they ate breakfast, and then attend his father in the Great Hall until Arthur was ordered by the King to do this or that. If there wasn't anything for them to do, she would follow him to the training fields.

He had invited her a couple times to train with them, but none of the knights wanted to fight her, and Merlin still felt uncomfortable with the idea of Arthur knowing all of her strengths and weaknesses so she declined and watched from the sidelines making sure none of the other knights got  _too_  invested in their training with Arthur.

It was strange for Merlin to be there, but also not there. Her opinion was occasionally asked but mostly she stood quietly behind Arthur, surveying, thinking, protecting.

One day, they were in the court when Gaius came to report a new illness infecting the village. Merlin could sense the magic as soon as they laid the corpse down on the cold ground.

She made eye contact with Gaius above the body and wondered if he knew. She made her eyes briefly glow golden. A flash of something contorted his face for half a second before he schooled it back into his regular expression.

The King had decided, correctly, that it must be sorcery but there were no leads on how to cure the victims.

Gaius left the hall and Merlin made to follow him.

"Where do you think you're going?" Arthur asked.

"I'll be right back."

He grabbed her wrist, "Merlin, everyone is watching to see how you perform as my Protector, you can't just go running off at the first sign of something more interesting happening in town."

"I'm not running off. I'll be back in 10 minutes."

"Then where are you going."

"Lady troubles."

He pulled back his hand and coughed awkwardly, "Right well then. Right."

Merlin resisted the urge to laugh and exited the Great Hall, running to catch up to Gaius.

"Gaius! Wait! I can help you."

He turned around and quirked an eyebrow.

"That was very dangerous, what you did in the Great Hall!"

"I wanted to see if you knew."

"I did know! And I also know that your father did not spend his entire life raising you so that you could get executed for carelessly using your gifts!"

Merlin reeled.

"My  _father_  would still be in Camelot if it weren't for you!"

"Your father would be dead if it weren't for me."

"You are a traitor to magic. You may have helped my father to escape, but it was people like you who could have persuaded Uther away from the Great Purge, or just killed him, God knows we would be better off."

"Merlin!" he gasped, "It's a wonder you are still alive, girl. You cannot go around saying things like that, it is treason!"

"It is truth!" she spat. "I will protect Uther as long as Arthur desires it and no further."

"And what exactly is your connection to Arthur? Have you bewitched him?"

"How dare you! I would never use magic on Arthur." She straightened. "It is my destiny to protect him."

"Destined? Did  _he_  tell you that?" Was this puppy love, Gaius wanted to ask, or was it something far more sinister?

"No. The last dragon did."

"The dragon? You foolish, arrogant girl your recklessness dishonors all the sacrifices Balinor has made for you. He did not send you to Camelot to get executed."

Merlin laughed bitterly, "Uther could not kill me even if he tried."

The sheer arrogance of it! How could this be Hunith's daughter, he wondered. This girl needed a good spanking, not promotion to one of the highest offices in the royal court. He harrumphed.

"Even if you can defend yourself, others will not be so lucky! Your actions have consequences, ones that you may not even realize when magic is involved. You  _must_  be more careful."

"Magic can save this town from the new illness."

"That is not sustainable. We must find the root of the disease."

"Have you found anything?"

"I believe it is emanating from the water source based on its indiscriminate manifestation among courtiers and farmers alike."

"I'll go tonight when Arthur's sleeping and find the source."

"Merlin! You can't put Arthur in danger, it's grounds for your execution!" His voice was desperate.

"Gaius, I thought you would know, somehow. I'm Emrys."

His eyes widened comically.

"I can't die," she continued, "And it's not like Uther can punish me by killing someone I care about since I have no friends here in Camelot." She looked at him meaningfully, and Gaius understood her reluctance to bond with anyone at court other than Arthur. To do so would be to put them at a terrible risk.

"Very well. I will not stand in your way."

"Thank you Gaius," she turned to return to court, "my father still speaks of you. He says you were a good man."

A ghost of a smile came over Gaius' face as he said simply, "I like to hope that I still am."

Merlin nodded once and they went their separate ways.

* * *

It really was like babysitting she thought, as she waited for Arthur to fall asleep. She had to wait around making sure he was fed and happy and sleeping. They had spent the day canvassing the town. When she suggested that the disease was coming from the water supply, he had merely scoffed at her.

Now that his breathing had evened out, she cast a spell of deep sleep and another of an impenetrable force field that went around his room, protecting him from any who would harm him and praying he would not wake before she returned.

After a brief encounter with the monster, Merlin returned to the castle more confused than ever. She went straight to Gaius' quarters not caring about the late hour. She pounded on the door.

"Gaius? Gaius! Please let me in!"

Groggy, "He opened the door. What is it child? Have you been found out?"

She rolled her eyes.

"No, nothing like it. I found the source, it's a monster, I've never seen anything like it."

After listening to her description, he pulled out an old book, flipping through the pages.

"Ah! Here it is, a creature of clay—earth and water. This is very powerful stuff, Merlin."

"How can I destroy it?"

"Well perhaps with the remaining elements: fire and wind."

She nodded. "Thank you for your help Gaius, the water supply will be clean by the day's end."

She got up and sprinted back to Arthur's room before he could wake. As the door closed Gaius responded, "No, Merlin, thank you."

She may have been reckless and headstrong, he reasoned, but she would certainly be a great boon to Camelot and her citizens.

* * *

Merlin bounded into Arthur's room and threw the curtains open.

"Good morning starshine! The sun says, 'hello!'"

"Ugh is that considered normal where you come from? Not that anyone knows where that is. . ."

Arthur rolled over and went back to sleep.

"I have foo-ood!" she sang, hoping it would get him out of bed. And it did. Blearily, he rubbed his eyes and sat down across from her.

"You're finally getting the hang of it." He said, digging into his breakfast.

"No, I just wanted to get you out of bed and I knew the only thing you love more than yourself is food so." She gestured to the spread she had laid out, "here we are."

"Are you calling me fat?" he asked through a mouth full of porridge.

"Yes."

"That's very rude."

"Indeed. But I have bigger news (no pun intended) for you: I have discovered the source of the illness."

"You have? How?"

"Research." She lied, "I got some books from the library and looked up the symptoms of the illness. The creature is coming from the water supplies, it is an elemental monster made of earth and water. It can be killed using fire and wind."

Arthur straightened. Finally, a chance to redeem himself after the botched tournament.

"We must go immediately!"

"Well as long as it's your idea."

"What do you mean?"

"I've sworn not to endanger your life, but if you were to rush into danger all of your own accord and I merely  _followed_  you in to help protect you, then I will not be breaking my oath!"

Arthur grinned at her and she grinned back.

They grabbed their supplies and headed out of the castle.

* * *

When they emerged from the caverns victorious, Arthur wiped his mud-covered sword on the grass in disgust. He had brought back two of the creatures fangs, proof that he had killed it and the only recognizable feature that remained.

They had somehow emerged from the caverns outside the city in an open field and he laid down on the ground, exhausted. Merlin sat down beside him.

He held up the fang and inspected it in the sunshine.

"Just another confirmation." He decided.

"Of what?"

"That my father is right. About magic, about everything. It breeds corruptions and abominations."

"That's not fair."

"What do you mean?" Arthur looked genuinely curious and Merlin struggled to explain. This was an extremely delicate situation and anything she said could tip the balance on how Arthur decided to regard magic.

"Magic," Merlin explained, "is like a sword: the sword itself does not kill, the knight does. The sword is just the tool he uses." She broke off and shook her head. "But no, never mind that it is a terrible metaphor because swords are  _made_  to destroy and magic is not."

Merlin took a deep breath, collected her thoughts and began anew, "Magic is like a quill: it can be used to write down bad things like declarations of war, or beautiful things like declarations of love or even practical, neutral things like recipes or directions."

Arthur looked increasingly skeptical. "And how do you know so much about magic?" He asked.

Merlin shrugged. "I don't," she answered, "It's just that I grew up in the woods in Cenred's kingdom. It's not illegal there, you know, and you meet magical folk."

Arthur shook his head, "No. It's a pretty metaphor Merlin but magic corrupts. It must've been a trick. You don't know what you're talking about. You've admitted it yourself."

"And you do?" she was getting agitated, "you're raised to fear this thing you've never even seen except when its users are being executed!"

"Or when they're trying to kill me!" Arthur stood.

"Because your father killed their families! If a man killed your entire village simply for the way they were born, killed everyone you ever loved, wouldn't you believe him to be evil for doing that?" Merlin followed him as he began to stalk away from her.

Arthur was livid, "Don't you dare speak of my father that way. He is a good man. I could have your head for saying something like that."

"You're only angry because you know in your heart of hearts that it's true!"

He kept walking or rather, stomping away from her. She needed to stop, she knew. She was only making it worse but she couldn't seem to get her mouth to listen to her head.

"What could possibly justify the murder of children?" she yelled after him, "Killed because their parents could do magic!"

Arthur felt hot tears of shame prick at his eyes and he blinked them back as he continued away from Merlin, leaving her in the meadow.

"Tell me!" she screamed after him.

An epiphany hit Arthur and the wind fell out of his sails. He turned around to see her running towards him.

"You were raised by druids." He accused when she neared him.

"Partially."

"My Protector. . . is a druid."

"No. I'm not. That's something you're born into. They just helped my father. They are a peaceful people."

"You have to leave. Tonight. You have saved my life and I will do the same by keeping your secret, but Merlin you are in grave danger in my father's castle. Any hint of an association with druids would be grounds for your execution."

Merlin scoffed, " _Everything_  that I have done since I arrived has been 'grounds for my execution'! And look," she gestured up and down her body, "my neck is still on my shoulders!"

She held up an arm and pulled back the sleeve, "Look! My skin is unburnt! Arthur, believe what you will about me, but do not dismiss me so easily. It is my destiny to protect you. Allow me that much at least."

"Your destiny?"

"The druids have prophecies. They had a few about me."

"And what were they about?"

"You, mostly. My fate is to protect you."

"So that's what you meant the night of the tournament. That you would always be there to save me."

"Why you?"

"I don't know, Arthur, I don't know."

They walked back to the castle side-by-side in silence. The sweetness of victory soured by Merlin's revelation. Merlin was a druid, if not by birth then by association. Arthur couldn't believe it. She could never know if the raid, he decided, she would hate him forever if she knew he had acted without orders from his father.

Uther was pleased at their victory, awarding his son with a rare smile when his son simply explained the facts of the situation, uncluttered by bragging or self-aggrandizing statements. Maybe Merlin was good for the boy's maturity. Uther felt please with his decision.

* * *

There were no apologies. Just awkward silences the next morning at breakfast. Both pretended that the previous night had simply never happened.

"Are you nervous?" Merlin ventured.

"Being around a druid? No, if you wanted to kill me you've had plenty of chances."

"I didn't mean me, I meant about Lord Bayard." She decided not to point out (again) that she wasn't a druid. Druids didn't have non-magical members of their tribes and he still thought she was mundane.

"Oh. Well, no I'm also not nervous about him either. We have the advantage if he tries something as foolish as attacking us, they'll be dead in seconds. Besides," he looked over at her and spoke in falsetto, "you'll protect me won't you Merlin?" he batted his eyelashes flirtatiously and she threw a bread roll at him.

"I don't know. . ." she ventured, "I saw them coming in yesterday. Bayard's men are pretty handsome. I like their blue uniforms it's a nice change from all this red." She retrieved her bread roll and bit into it, "I like a man secure enough in his masculinity to wear pastels."

"I'll have you know that the Knights are plenty secure! We even have tea parties sometimes! Don't blame us for our house colors."

She rolled her eyes. Everything was back to normal, then it would seem.

"But, with a tongue like yours I suppose you'll have to cast your net as wide and far as you can to find a man to put up with you."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Well I'm your charge, for all intents and purposes, and you say very rude things to me! Can't imagine what you'll end up saying to your husband."

"What've I said that was rude?"

"You called me fat!"

"Oh come on, we both know I was joking."

"I don't care." He sniffed as they left his bed chambers and joined Uther in the Great Hall.

The reception was, typical of Camelot, very dramatic. Actually, she noticed Bayard's men do the same bird flock formation as Uther's and wondered if it was just an affectation of nobles to be ridiculously theatrical.

Yes, she decided, that must've been it.

After they were dismissed, she and Arthur stepped out of the Great Hall. They were going on patrol, but Arthur realized he had forgotten the list of shop-keepers he was supposed to visit.

"Wait here," he instructed Merlin and she did. Leaning patiently against the wall as she waited for Arthur to return.

One of Bayard's manservants passed by tripping on, apparently nothing as he did so.

"Sorry!" the man apologized from the grounds, "so sorry, my Lady."

Taking pity on him, Merlin crouched down to help him gather up his things. She looked up and they made eye contact. He was gorgeous. With dark hair and blue eyes to rival her own, Merlin wondered if she had ever seen such a beautiful man. Her mind flickered briefly to Arthur, but that faded away when he offered his hand.

"I'm Caradoc."

He was tall. Taller than Merlin, or Arthur for that matter, and broader too. He must have been a stable hand with muscles like that, she mused. He smiled dazzlingly at her as she offered him her hand.

"Merlin." He kissed her hand. It was strange, she thought, for a manservant to be so familiar with a member of the court, but she tried not to react. Maybe things were done differently in Bayard's kingdom. Maybe it was a sign of respect.

He gasped in realization, "You're  _The_  Lady Merlin! Prince Arthur's sworn shield and protector! It is an honor to meet you." He bent a knee, still holding her hand, "It must be an honor to serve the great Arthur Pendragon."

"It is." He was laying it on a bit thick. Merlin was skeptical. But, she looked at his face one more time, she supposed she could forgive him. Was she now going to be the most common route for men to try and become closer to Arthur? She supposed it was one pathway to power.

"Merlin!" It was Arthur returning from his chambers. She realized the manservant was still holding her hand and pulled it out of his grasp.

"Merlin." He repeated looking more than a little bit taken aback looking between his Protector and the strange man, "I know I said cast your nets 'far and wide' but I didn't mean you had to include  _servants_  for goodness' sake."

He turned towards the servant, "You are dismissed. Do not bother us again."

Caradoc bowed and left them.

"That wasn't necessary." She chided, still curious about Caradoc's motives and wishing she could investigate further instead of Arthur-sitting.

"I was only joking before, you know. If you're that worried my father or I will arrange a marriage if need be, no need to get desperate."

"If you  _must_  know, the manservant approached me. I was just being nice."

"Nice? Nice! When have you ever been nice?"

"Apparently, only when I'm not with you."

"Apparently. Oh and by the way, you'll need to wear an official garment tonight. So it's either a dress or chainmail."

"Give me chainmail or give me death."

"And you say I'm dramatic."

"I won't have drunken lechers staring at my barely concealed body all night just because of some outdated Camelot tradition."

"Fair enough. I'll send for women's armor and a cloak."

"Thank you."

He nodded.

"I need to get ready. I authorize you to go check out Bayard's men, if you so desire, but only to assess them for threats in case this treaty for peace is false."

She nodded and left to search for Caradoc. Not because he was attractive. Although that didn't hurt. But because her alarm ward had been bothering her since she met him and she had a feeling he was behind it.

She found him leaving the royal guest chambers. She inhaled sharply as she saw his reflection on a sconce. It seemed Caradoc was another Lady Helen, parading as a young man when what lay inside was an old woman. Kilgarrah's voice echoed through her mind  _Nimueh_.

Merlin felt her heart begin to beat unbearably fast. A priestess of the old religion. She must have caused the water-illness. And now she was here to kill Arthur once and for all.

She had to stop her—him—whatever! Nimueh had to be stopped, but how? Merlin didn't even know Nimueh's plan.

She returned to the dungeons.

"Kilgarrah! Please! Help me."

She could hear the beating of his wings before she saw him.

"Young witch, what has caused such distress?"

"Like you don't know, you're the one who revealed Caradoc's true identity. Nimueh. What does she mean to do?"

"What she always does; sow the seeds of mistrust and chaos."

"What does that mean? How can I stop her?"

"You must protect Arthur at all costs. You and he are two sides of the same coin."

"But what steps can I take to protect him? Please, Kilgarrah, I'm desperate."

"Why should I tell you?"

"I'll do anything, please, I can't confront her directly. Not yet."

"You are right, you are not strong enough yet. Not without help. But there is one thing that can defeat Nimueh."

"What is it?"

"A sword forged in dragon's breath."

"Please, Kilgarrah, I'm desperate." Merlin repeated, unsheathing her sword and holding it up.

"You must promise me something."

"Anything."

"You must right the sins of the father."

"My father? Kilgarrah as much as I want to, I cannot resurrect your brothers and sisters."

"Be that as it may, you must promise to free me."

"Swear on it."

"I so swear on my magic."

"No, swear it on your father's life."

"I so swear it on my father's life." A swirl of golden magic wove itself around Merlin and Kilgarrah and she felt the oath bind to her soul.

"You must also swear that you, and only you will use this sword."

"I so swear it."

The sword rose into the air and Kilgharrah imbued it with his breath. She grabbed the sword out of the air, surprised by the intricate new engravings down the blades shaft. She returned it to her sheath.

"Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Nimueh has laced Arthur's goblet. Go to the banquet, be swift and subtle."

"Thank you Kilgarrah, I will not forget this."

"I know you will not, Merlin, your oath guarantees it."

With a nod, she took off, running up past the sleeping guards and to the banquet hall.

There, Lord Bayard and his men had only begun to sit down. Merlin stood on the edge of the room, her magic scanning the room for the box containing Arthur's ceremonial goblet, looking for traces of magic.

Morgana's handmaiden, Gwen, she remembered walked over to her.

"She looks so beautiful, doesn't she?" she gestured towards Morgana.

"Mmm." Merlin hummed noncommittally as she continued to look for the goblet.

Gwen looked searchingly at Merlin's lackluster response and decided to probe further.

"Some people are just born to be queen." Gwen watched Merlin for a reaction.

Merlin looked confused, "Mhhmm." There! Merlin thought, there was the goblet.

It was tempting to switch Arthur and Uther's goblets. Kill two birds with one stone, or one particularly pesky king to be more accurate. But Arthur wasn't ready yet. She banished the poisoned chalice, replacing it with a goblet from the kitchen's silver cabinet, emblazoning Bayard's coat of arms on it. Hopefully Bayard wouldn't notice the difference.

"I almost feel sorry for her. Who would want to marry Arthur?"

Merlin stayed silent. Caradoc-Nimueh, was moving towards her.

"It was nice to see you, Guinevere, if you'll excuse me."

Gwen watched Merlin and the handsome young manservant step into the hallway. Life at court could be so convoluted at times.

* * *

"Merlin I-I didn't know who to tell, but I trust you and—" His voice broke off as he looked around wildly.

Part of her wanted to tell Nimueh to drop the act. Her palms itched with small traces of crackling magic in reaction to forced calm when standing so close to a confirmed enemy.

"Slow down, Caradoc. Tell me what happened."

"I-I don't know. I went to bring Bayard's dinner tray, you see, he wasn't expecting me. He'll kill me if I tell!"

Merlin was incredibly proud of herself for not laughing at Nimueh's act. How was she supposed to react? She tried to imagine what Arthur would do in her position with a beautiful maiden.

Reaching out to touch Caradoc's shoulder she said reassuringly, "Just tell me what happened. I will deal with the consequences. You will not be harmed."

Caradoc's face smiled.

"It's the chalice, it's poisoned."

"Is it? Why would Bayard take such a risky move? He surely knows that such an obvious display of aggression will only result in the slaughter of his men. He's outnumbered, out-armed, you must be tired, Caradoc."

"No! Merlin, I know what I saw. If you don't do anything, Arthur will die!"

"Good. He's a prat to work for anyways." Caradoc's jaw dropped open.

"But if he dies, Uther's spirit will be broken and Camelot will fall!"

"No, Caradoc, if you're right then your king has done us all a favor. With Arthur out of the way, then I could marry Uther, and finally be the Queen of Camelot."

Caradoc looked horrified, "I-I misjudged you Merlin. I thought you were a woman of honor. I thought your oaths meant something to you!"

Merlin heaved a great sigh, "You're right Caradoc." Caradoc's bright blue eyes gleamed with hope, "You did misjudge me. Now come on," she gestured back towards the hall, "let's enjoy the show."

Nimueh numbly followed Merlin back into the Great Hall. This was, well, unexpected. Merlin was even more conniving than Nimueh herself! Well at least Arthur would die and the kingdoms would be thrown into chaos. Nimueh would get Merlin eventually; even if it wasn't the perfect plan it had been. She resumed her place with the other servants and watched as Bayard and Uther made their toasts.

Merlin ducked behind a column and whispered a notice-me-not spell sneaking around the border of the room. Just as Arthur took a long drink from his goblet, Caradoc -Nimueh straightened, standing on his tiptoes, breath quickening in anticipation, not noticing the change behind him.

Merlin raised her sword and plunged it through his back, twisting it as it came through his stomach.

Her notice-me-not spell failed and suddenly every man in the room was pointing a sword in her direction.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted.

"This is an outrage!" Bayard declared, "Your guard has killed my manservant!"

"Calm down Bayard, you are outnumbered. Now Merlin, what is the meaning of this?" Uther asked.

Merlin smirked inwardly, now Uther would be in her debt forever.

"This is no man." She removed her dragon's-breath sword and Caradoc crumpled to the ground, transforming into a middle-aged woman.

"Nimueh!" Uther cursed and looked at Merlin in awe.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"Bayard's 'manservant' tried to seduce me," she said coolly, "and convince me to join his-er-her plan to take over yours and Bayard's kingdoms. She wanted me to poison Arthur at the banquet." Merlin lied.

"I see." Uther was pale. He gestured more guards over, "Burn her body," he instructed, "and bring me the bones. I don't want to take any chances that she escapes. She is-was a dangerous sorceress."

The guards exchanged looks, but did as they were told.

* * *

A/N: Hey y'all I realized that I was not updating this very frequently on AO3-- I tend to update more reliably on ff.net under the same username and title if you want to follow the story there.

As always thanks for your readership and review-ership :) xoxo


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin wiped her brow with the back of her hand. The forest was hot and humid.

"This will go faster if we split up." Arthur held up the piece of parchment they had brought with them and tore it in half.

It had been a slow day at court when Gaius had requested assistance in procuring stock herbs for his medicines. Neither Arthur nor Merlin had jumped to perform the menial task, but there had been reports of a monster roaming the forest, making it too dangerous for servants to scavenge for herbs. Arthur's schedule had been clear and subsequently they had spent half the morning hunched over squinting at plants to try and match them with Gaius' descriptions.

Merlin turned towards Arthur and raised an eyebrow.

"And what if you get in trouble and I'm not there to save you?"

"I've never actually  _needed_  you to save me,  _Mer_ lin." He smirked, "Nice to know you care though."

"Oh please. I only care about my own neck. If you died, your father would kill me for sure. Or at the very least ban me from Camelot, and I have grown so used to its luxuries."

She tugged at her new leather vest appreciatively.

"Good to know I have such a loyal Protector."

Merlin just smiled and shook her head.

"Seriously though," Arthur tried again, "the sooner we get Gaius' herbs, the sooner we can get back into the castle and out of the heat."

"Camelot's fiercest warrior, defeated by heat. How embarrassing."

Arthur handed her the slightly longer half of the list and turned to walk away.

"Fine!" She yelled after him, "But you better be in the clearing by the time the sun is directly overhead! Otherwise I'm telling your father you ran away and he'll clap you in irons for sure!"

Arthur was already out of sight and Merlin decided to start looking for her herbs.

After about 10 minutes, Merlin had collected the majority of her assigned herbs and was scouring the ground for the last, particularly difficult herb when she heard distant scratching noises.

Seamlessly, Merlin tied off her bag of herbs and unsheathed her swords, crouching behind an oversized stump.

Merlin waited as the sounds got louder and louder. She concentrated on her perceptive magic, trying to identify the source of the noise.

Not human. Bird-y? It sounded too large to be any type of bird she knew of and felt too different from Kilgharrah to be a dragon. She peaked around the corner and felt her heart rate pick up.

She spun her swords once and prepared to fight.

The thing was huge. Merlin jabbed and ducked, trying to at least injure the beast so that it would stop attacking but so far the animal had dodged all of her attacks.

Slashing both swords across its breast, Merlin was able to finally land a hit.

Instead of retreating, though, the animal was only further enraged.

It reared back like a horse and raked one of its claws across her face and torso. She fell backwards onto the ground, four large scratch marks marring her front. Her blood felt warm and sticky.

Merlin pulled a dagger from her boot and threw it at the animal. The dagger pierced the creatures wing and it shrieked in pain and anger, advancing again.

Without hope of defeating the creature with melee fighting, she finally resorted to magic.

From the ground, she tried to kill the beast with lightning and scramble backwards at the same time. The animal was immune, though, and deflected the magic.

Merlin was truly beginning to panic. This was not how she was meant to die. Pulling herself upwards with the help of a tree she retrieved her dragon's-breath blade prepared to make a last stand.

Suddenly, another figure appeared in the forest. He attacked the beast with hurried movements, looking at her rather worriedly. The beast briefly backed off. He turned to her, his eyes wide.

He grabbed her arm, helping her stand up.

"Come on! We have to run!"

Merlin half limped, half ran as the animal gave chase before her savior pulled her down underneath a fallen tree trunk.

The beast flew past them and he finally turned towards her.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm just fine," she slurred, eyes bleary with pain and blood loss, "You?"

"Yes," he said, "yes I am uninjured. I'm Lancelot by the way."

"Mmmm. We should go before he comes back." Merlin thought her eyelids felt like the heaviest thing she had ever had to hold up.

She stumbled to her feet, gesturing for Lancelot to join her.

"C'mon help's that way," she pointed towards the clearing she was meant to meet Arthur in. She took a few stumbling steps and Lancelot followed concernedly behind her.

"Are you sure? Perhaps you should rest for a moment."

"No." She clapped a hand on his shoulder and looked him dead in the eye. "If I'm not in that clearing in five minutes. I'll be  _dead_."

Of course Merlin's half-delirious reference to her rapidly declining time allowed away from Arthur came across as lethally serious to Lancelot.

Consequently, when Merlin collapsed two steps later, Lancelot scooped her up bridal style and ran as fast as he could to the clearing she had pointed towards.

Panting and drenched in his own sweat, Lancelot was incredibly relieved when he reached the clearing. But only for a moment.

Seconds after stepping into the field, Lancelot found himself at the wrong end of a sword.

The cool metal pressed threateningly against the back of his neck as a voice sounded behind him.

"Unhand her, you animal!"

Lancelot spun around to face his assailant. It was a knight! He had bright straw-colored hair and a relatively pale complexion for a soldier.

And he was not happy with Lancelot, it seemed.

"No!" Lancelot began, "you don't understand!"

"Oh I understand perfectly," the knight sneered, "you see a maiden in the forest, unaccompanied and you think this is your perfect day. Well bad news for you, you picked the wrong girl. You'll die for this, scoundrel. The only reason your head is still on your body is that I don't want your headless body to drop her on the ground."

The Knight's sword pressed into Lancelot's neck, drawing blood. "Now," he continued, "Set her down. Gently."

"Of-of course. But, really, you don't understand. She was like this when I found her. There was a monster!"

"Sure there was."

Arthur took a step forward, his sword still pressed against Lancelot's neck, forcing him away from Merlin's body.

Arthur put himself in between them.

There was a noise from the ground. Merlin tried to move, but instead just groaned. Arthur turned towards her when he heard the noise.

Jabbing Lancelot's chest with his sword he warned him, "Move from where you stand and you'll be dead before your foot hits the ground."

Lancelot nodded and swallowed heavily.

Arthur knelt down besides Merlin.

"Merlin, don't try to speak."

"Arthur," she coughed, "you prat. Lancelot saved me. There  _was_  a monster." Her breathing was labored, but coherent. "And this doesn't count as you saving me."

Arthur sheathed his sword and scooped her up. Bringing her to Gaius as quickly as he could. He wished he had brought a horse to the forest that he could tie her to.

* * *

Later, Arthur stood outside of Gaius' quarters. He hadn't noticed at the time, but Lancelot had followed into the castle.

Arthur didn't care that Lancelot had technically saved Merlin. He couldn't divorce this new information from the sensation of seeing him carrying Merlin her armor and skin torn open, stained pink with her blood.

Arthur had never felt as out of control as he had today. His father had requested his presence in court but he had refused.

If Uther could afford for his son to spend the entire morning picking herbs, then he could allow him to stand vigil at his Protector's bedside.

No, not a vigil. Merlin could not die. She was practically still a child, for God's sake! And he hadn't even been there to save her.

Arthur wanted to punch Lancelot. Why hadn't he protected her better? He wanted to punch himself. Why hadn't he listened when she said they should stick together?

Arthur paced back and forth in the hallways, wishing he was allowed to stand by Gaius as he tended her. Eventually he grew tired of pacing. He leaned against the wall opposite Gaius' door and slid down to the floor. It was undignified, certainly, but Arthur was also certain that he could give less of a damn about dignity at the moment.

Almost an hour later, the door creaked open and Gaius stepped out. Arthur scrambled to his feet, "How is she?"

"She will be fine, Sire. All she requires is some rest. Peace and quiet. I believe she will be better within a fortnight."

Arthur sighed in relief.

"Can I see her Gaius?"

"I'm not sure that's wise, Arthur."

"Please. Just for a moment."

Gaius heaved a great sigh, "Oh very well then. But do not expect much, she is tired."

To both Arthur and Gaius' surprise, Merlin had pushed herself up into a sitting position when they entered the room.

She was tired, but her magic had instinctively healed most of her wounds, internally at least. Too much healing superficially would be suspicious to others. Merlin was grateful that her father had taught her how to embrace her magic's instincts as a child; it had saved her a large amount of pain now.

Merlin was exhausted from healing herself. She felt drained and sore.

Arthur walked over to sit by her head.

"How's Lancelot?" She asked. Arthur grimaced at the mention of his newest enemy.

"Alive."

"Glad to hear it."

"Glad to see you're alive." He clipped out formally.

"Aw, didn't know you cared!" She parroted back to him from earlier that morning.

"Very funny. I just didn't want my father to suffer the embarrassment of picking out a Protector with such a weak constitution that she died two months into the job."

"If I weren't about to fall back to sleep, I'd slap you upside the head."

"That's treason!" Arthur mock-gasped.

Merlin yawned.

"Add it to my list of offenses."

She nodded off and Gaius shooed Arthur out of his chambers.

* * *

Later that night, Arthur lay in bed awake, haunted by the image of Merlin with slash marks across her face and body.

He tossed and turned before falling into an uneasy sleep.

A few short hours later, Arthur was awoken by the sunrise. A clumsy and awkward servant helped him dress and served him breakfast.

He ate alone.

At dinner, his father asked after Merlin's health.

"She should be better within a week."

"Good to hear."

Morgana spoke up, "And what of her attacker? Surely he can't go unpunished!"

"He won't tell me what really happened. Said that he 'saved' her from a monster so until Merlin's awake and coherent we're in a deadlock."

"I saw them bring him in," Morgana continued, "And he looked like a peasant. There's no way he would've gotten the drop on Merlin without  _some_  kind of advantage. She's no amateur!"

"Enough!" Arthur bit out. "I assure you he will not go unpunished."

Uther turned towards his son and spoke, "Arthur I am happy to see you taking initiative with the prisoners, but really this is Merlin's own failing. It should be she protecting you, not the other way around."

Arthur glared at his father.

"We protect each other."

"I see."

Uther furrowed his brow. He would have to keep an eye on his son and Merlin. Or perhaps this Lancelot fellow in her demise if things got too serious. It wouldn't do to have his son's loyalty divided and Merlin would certainly not be an advisable marriage.

Uther sighed, yet another problem to worry about.

* * *

Despite Gaius' estimation of two weeks, it was only five days later when Merlin awoke in the middle of the night coherent and uninjured. She had been unable to fully control her magic as she slept and it had turned her cuts into scabs and pink scars.

God, she felt sore. She stretched and walked down to the kitchens to get a glass of water. Along her way, she felt for Lancelot's presence. When she found it, she was stunned.

* * *

Arthur's door slammed open in the middle of the night. In a second, he was out of bed, sword in hand, and prepared to defend Camelot against a siege.

The invader lit the candle on his bedside table.

It was Merlin.

Arthur lowed the sword.

"What the Hell?!" She exclaimed.

"Sorry!" He winced, "I thought you were an intruder! Who goes around banging open doors in the middle of the night?"

"Not assassins Arthur! I'm pretty sure the whole point there is to be  _subtle_  and not tip you off that they're about to kill you! And your aggression isn't even what I was referring to!"

"Well what was it then?"

"Why is Lancelot in a cell?!"

"You woke me up in the middle of the night to ask me why a criminal is in his cell." Arthur deadpanned.

"He's not a criminal!"

"Attacking the Protector of the heir apparent is High Treason, Merlin." Arthur spoke slowly and carefully to her.

"He didn't attack me, Arthur!"

Arthur sighed. Gaius mentioned that she might be in denial about what happened to her. He tried to remember Gaius' advice about how to handle this.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Merlin. Lancelot is the criminal here, not you. We will see him hanged. Don't worry, my father or I can  _still_  arrange a good marriage for you! You don't have to pretend it didn't happen."

Merlin let out a small laugh in shock and disbelief as she realized what Arthur was implying.

"He didn't attack me! Arthur, there was a monster, a beast! These are claw marks," she gestured to herself, "Not sword cuts!"

Arthur grimaced as he took in her scars, but continued onwards.

"Don't you want justice? What if he attacks another woman? I can't allow a criminal like him to live. Men like him never change."

Merlin raised her hand and a resounding slap echoed through the air.

Arthur brought his hand to his stinging face in shock.

Merlin raised both of her hands up to put them on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry Arthur. But you weren't listening to me! I had to snap you out of it. Lancelot. Did. Not. Attack. Me. Are you ready to listen to me?"

He nodded numbly, hand still nursing his sore face.

She told him the whole story, describing the animal as she did so.

He nodded.

"That. . . actually makes sense."

"The truth usually does."

"The description matches what villagers have told us about a mysterious monster."

"OK well now that that's resolved, we just need to free Lancelot and hunt down this monster once and for all."

"There's only one problem."

"What's that?"

"Lancelot's already been charged with High Treason."

"What?!"

"I'm sorry Merlin! You were asleep for a long time, I did what I thought was right."

"God! Has anyone in Camelot  _ever_ heard of a fair trial?"

"It's OK, we'll explain it to my father in the morning. You should get some rest now, though."

She nodded, "It'll be nice to return to my regular room."

Arthur shook his head, "No. Take my bed tonight. I'll sleep in yours. You're still recovering; you could use another night's good sleep."

Merlin rolled her eyes, "You're still being ridiculous. I feel fine." At his skeptical expression she added, "I'm tougher than I look!"

And with that, she sprung open the door to her old room and went to sleep.

Arthur could only shake his head. Awake for only a few hours after being at death's door only days before and already she was up and swinging. He smiled fondly before climbing into his own bed, able to sleep better now that she was on the other side of the wall again.

* * *

Merlin was glad that she awoke before Arthur the next morning. She had slept enough the past few days and she needed to gather her things and her thoughts.

Her old armor was shredded and it made her sad. She'd grown fond of it.

Nicking some spare clothes from Arthur's closet, she transfigured them into a close replica of her old armor. She quickly ran down to Gaius' quarters, grabbed her swords and daggers from beside her sick bed and replaced them in her new holster. She scribbled a quick note to him saying that she was better and then returned to Arthur's chambers.

He was still in bed. He was still shirtless. She supposed he had been last night too, but she had been too angry to notice.

She took up her perch on his window seat, watching over him just as she had before her injury. She was the first thing he saw when he woke up, staring down at him like some dark guardian angel.

"Good morning." He croaked.

She smiled. Her anger with him had faded. She had had time to think over his actions and, though a bit paternalistic and condescending, they had coming out of a caring place and subsequently she attributed the fault in his actions to his youth and father's influence rather than some inherent maliciousness.

"Good morning." She answered.

She had already called up for breakfast and there was a prompt knock on the door as Arthur yawned and sat up. She threw a shirt at him as he got out of bed.

He caught it and carried it to the door to answer it.

"Aren't you going to get dressed? It's distracting—for the servants, I mean."

The manservant setting out their breakfast spread raised both eyebrows and gave her a look.

Arthur's mouth contorted into a smirk.

"For God's sake, just put on the shirt!" She demanded, "Ugh, it's like living with an animal."

"Oh I'm sorry, did you have somewhere to be?" He asked teasingly.

"Yes, actually." She deadpanned, "I need to get an audience with you father to save a man you wrongfully accused in my absence from execution."

That sobered him up. They finished breakfast in silence and headed to the Great Hall.

* * *

Uther listened to Merlin's story patiently as she explained what had  _really_ happened with Lancelot.

"I'm sorry," Uther began and Merlin felt her heart sink, "But the charge has already been pressed against him. Unless you have concrete proof of this supposed beast, then I may be able to pardon him."

"What?! But Arthur will recant! Won't you Arthur?" She looked pleadingly at him.

"Yes," he said, "I will."

"There you go! Your former 'proof' of his guilt has been recanted."

"I'm sorry." Uther repeated. He didn't look too sorry, Merlin thought to herself. "But," Uther continued, "If you do not have concrete evidence of the beast before sunrise, the man will die. If he were a citizen of Camelot, perhaps things would be different. But he is not and subsequently will not be afforded all the rights of another citizen of Camelot."

Merlin stormed out of the Great Hall and headed straight for the dungeons.

Arthur made to trail after her, but his father stopped him.

"Arthur, a word, alone please."

Merlin continued on her way to the dungeons as the guards and courtiers cleared out the Great Hall for the King and the Prince to speak.

"Arthur, my son, I forbid you to aid Merlin in seeking this beast."

"What? Father, I must go! The beast is a threat to Camelot, besides, Merlin has already faced it once before and found it to be a challenge. If I don't accompany her, she will just end up injured again—she could even die!"

Perhaps that would be for the best, Uther thought to himself, but did not dare utter aloud. Instead he said, "Exactly, it is far too dangerous. Besides, yesterday you were more than happy to execute this man. Now you are willing to risk your own life to save him?"

"I am willing to do exactly what it takes to serve justice in Camelot."

"No," Uther shook his head, "You are willing to do what Merlin believes is justice. You have allowed her to have far too much influence on you. Do you know how you looked carrying her in here with tears in your eyes? Like a little boy whose puppy was trampled by a horse. You looked like a fool! Merlin is a shield, nothing more. And shields are meant to be used. Don't forget that."

Arthur bristled.

"You are dismissed."

* * *

Merlin curled her hands around Lancelot's cell and he did the same, their knuckles grazing.

"I'll get you out of here, I promise."

"Don't do anything that puts you in danger's way, my Lady. I could never forgive myself if you were injured on my behalf."

Merlin leaned forward.

"You risked your life to save mine and could die for it now. It would sully my honor  _not_ to do the same for you."

He nodded, "Please, my Lady, be careful."

He looked into her eyes and Merlin swore he could see straight through to her soul.

Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead to his through the bars, "I will." She whispered.

They stayed like that for a moment. Impulsively, she pressed her lips to his through the bars.

"Goodbye, my Lady, it was honor to know you."

"No," Merlin shook her head as she walked backwards away from the cell, "No goodbyes. Not now, not ever."

She turned around and left before he could see her confidence falter.

* * *

"Have you heard of this monster Gaius?"

"I have, Merlin. There is only one problem: you must use magic to defeat the creature."

"Then I shall go alone."

"You may find that relatively easy this time, Uther has forbade Arthur from joining you. This the book that should teach you the necessary magic."

"Thank you for your help, Gaius. You have been very generous with me."

"I would do anything for Hunith's daughter."

Merlin nodded jerkily. "Well, thanks."

"Be careful Merlin."

"I will."

* * *

The door to the armory squeaked open and Merlin turned around to see who had entered. It was Morgana.

She wore chainmail and armor that emphasized her ample breasts and a perfectly undone braid frames her face. Merlin rolled her eyes.

"I'm coming with you!" She declared.

"No. You aren't."

"My father forbade Arthur from joining you, but not me. Besides, I know how to fight!" Her eyes were bright and her chest heaved with anticipation at joining Merlin on the adventure.

"Knowing how to knock a sword around with a couple knights trained to protect you is not the same as knowing how to fight."

"I know you would do the same thing for me, Merlin!"

". . .No offense, Morgana, but I don't have time for this. Look, I know your intentions are good, but you would just slow me down."

"Don't try to protect me, Merlin! I thought you would understand—we're both women, they always treat us like we're made of glass! But you have proven to  _everyone_  that women can fight just as well as men!"

"Morgana, it's not about protecting you or out of some obligation to Uther that I am denying you, you genuinely would slow me down. I don't care if Arthur or Uther would kill me for letting you come. I don't want you to come because I can't be the best hunter I can be if I'm constantly worrying about you."

"Oh." Morgana's shoulders drooped and Merlin almost felt badly. Almost.

"Work on your footwork and speed and I'll consider bringing you next time."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. Now go distract Arthur so he doesn't follow me. I don't need him following me either."

Morgana nodded and perked up, happy to have a purpose.

* * *

The horse ride was rough on Merlin's newly healed body, but the spell did the trick. It was almost a shame to kill such a powerful magical being.

Merlin got off her horse when she was certain the beast was dead. She cut off one of its claws as proof of its existence and because she knew that the ground up claw had special healing powers that Gaius would appreciate.

But dawn was nearly breaking and her time was running out.

Merlin rode hard against the sunrise, the wound in her side threatening to open up again. Merlin felt a sharp pain as the once just-healed over would opened up again and blood stained her undershirt.

She threatened to barrel over the guards at the gate who refused to move out of her way, riding straight up to the stake where they were leading Lancelot by force.

Uther stood, reading off the charges laid against him. Merlin jumped off of her horse and ran to Uther who, blessedly, stood not on the balcony but on the stairs by the pyre. She wrenched the hacked off claw out of her bag and shoved it in his face, "Here! Here is proof, Lancelot saved me from a Gryphon which now lies dead in the forest. Release him."

Uther considered. He  _had_  promised her to deliver the boy if she brought him proof. And the claw which was easily three feet in diameter was certainly no sparrow claw. But still, the people wanted a show. But maybe. . .maybe he could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.

He turned to Merlin and lowered his voice.

"I will pardon your friend on one condition."

"Name it."

"If I pardon him, you must kiss him. On the platform, in front of all of Camelot."

"Why?"

"You dare question your King? You would prefer that he die?"

She searched his face for a moment, unsure of his moments.

"You're sick." She accused.

"Is that your answer?"

"No, I'll do it. I just don't understand why you want me to."

"These people left their homes for a show and I so hate to disappoint my people."

"Fine. I'll do it. Pardon him. Now."

"You forget to whom you are speaking, you insolent girl."

"Please." She begged.

"Very well."

He turned towards the crowd and raised his voice.

"It would appear that young love prevails once again in the war against magic! An evil magical creature had convinced us of young Lancelot's guilt. Only Merlin's love allowed her to see through the trick and she has slain the monster controlling us!"

He lead the applause by clapping. Merlin looked uncertainly towards Uther. His smiled strained and he gave her a firm shove in Lancelot's direction. Taking the hint, she walked up to Lancelot whose bonds were being cut by the prison guards.

She leaned in and kissed him. Merlin almost gasped at the enthusiasm with which he returned the kiss. As his hands were freed from their bonds, he wound them around her waist and deepened the kiss.

The crowds, who had been eager for an execution, were even more pleased with the public display of affection. They went wild with applause and cheers as the pair kissed.

Merlin pulled away feeling light-headed just in time to see Arthur stomping into the castle.

* * *

She found him in his private practice room, shooting arrows at a target. He didn't turn around when she entered.

"Seems like you didn't have a problem finding a man after all." He said.

"Don't be ridiculous, Arthur."

"What? All of Camelot saw you two display your love for everyone to see. To not marry him now would dishonor you both."

"Your father demanded it."

"Excuse me?"

"It was a condition of Lancelot's pardon. He said the crowd wanted a show and wouldn't leave peacefully without one. He said I had to agree to kiss Lancelot in order for him to be pardoned."

"That's ridiculous."

"Is it? You've seen how crowds can riot."

"No it's ridiculous. Why would my father ask you to kiss him? And did he make this agreement with Lancelot beforehand, because it certainly didn't seem like the first time he had kissed you."

Merlin wanted to slap him again, but restrained herself.

"I know why you're really upset."

Arthur stopped shooting arrows and finally turned around to face her.

"You do?"

She nodded.

"I do. If I marry Lancelot, or anyone for that matter, I can't be your protector anymore. I would have to retire. Unless they were a knight or something. But you don't have to worry; I don't plan on marrying anyone. Not now, not ever. Not even Lancelot. Even though he  _is_ pretty cute."

" _Mer_ lin I was fine before you came along, I would be fine after you got married and 'retire.' But it doesn't matter anyways, you're sworn to be my Protector until you die, remember?"

He put down his bow and arrow and accompanied her out of the practice room with a lighter step.

This was becoming a pattern, Merlin realized, she and Arthur would fight and then make up and pretend nothing had happened. She wondered what  _would_  happen someday when it was impossible to keep pretending.

 


	6. Chapter 6

"Why not?" Merlin asked, annoyed.

"Because!" Arthur rejoined, equally annoyed, "There can only be knights who are of noble birth!"

"Lancelot is better than half your men, and you know it! Damn your father's rules, make him one of your guard!"

"I  _cannot_  Merlin, and that is the end of this discussion!"

Merlin took a deep breath and released it slowly. They were walking down to the training grounds for Arthur's morning exercises which Merlin now helped him with.

"Then make him one of your Protectors." She picked up one sparring staff and threw another one to Arthur.

Arthur's eyes narrowed as he caught the wooden staff with one hand.

"There can only be one Protector. And you have already sworn yourself to me until your death. . . . Unless you intend to marry Lancelot?" He asked unsurely.

Merlin glared and smacked Arthur's staff with her own.

"Don't be ridiculous Arthur, this has nothing to do with me. Besides, you know I can never marry."

"Why not?" He grunted as he pushed back against Merlin.

"Because" She connected their staffs and pushed him off of her, "If I did then my husband would also have to follow the two of us around the whole time. I can't be outside your perceptive fields for more than half an hour, remember? I can't think of any man who would be willing to spend their entire lives with  _both_  of us."

"Nonsense, all of my knights have sworn their lives to me. You will simply have to marry one of my knights."

Merlin snorted, blocking and parrying as Arthur continued their spar.

"What? Is there something wrong with my knights? Is that why you wanted to make Lancelot a knight?"

"I wanted to make Lancelot a knight because he would protect Camelot ably and nobly despite his ignoble blood, which you know as well as I."

"Then why the derision for my knights?"

"I have no derision for your knights, only the prospect of marrying one."

Arthur felt oddly insulted.

"And why is that?"

"They won't even raise a sword to me. How could I respect a man who is not my equal?"

"Will Lancelot raise a sword to you?"

"No, he will not. He is too chivalrous. A concept you know nothing about."

"I thought you liked unchivalrous men. Isn't that why you want a man who will duel you? Or at least spar with you?"

"No, I want a man who does not see me as a fragile china doll, ready to break at the slightest provocation. Or, on the other end of the spectrum, one who is not afraid to be beaten in combat by a woman." She punctuated her statement with a particularly hard blow to Arthur's abdomen.

"You set a tall order." He gasped out.

"Fortunately," She pushed forward, "As I said before, the likelihood of me marrying  _anyone_  is quite slim so it's not a problem either of us has to worry about."

Arthur hummed in agreement.

"But if you  _had_  to pick one of my knights, who would it be?" He teased.

" _You_ " she swept one foot behind him and pushed his chest with her staff, "are a prat."

Arthur fell flat on his back and groaned in pain. She pulled his staff out of his hands and rapped him once on the head.

"But to answer, your question: Leon."

"What?" He squinted up at her from the ground, the sun half-blinding him as he tried to catch his breath.

"If I had to pick one of your knights, it would be Sir Leon."

Arthur looked baffled.

"What?" She shrugged, "he 's cute."

Arthur's mouth fell open as he scrambled to stand up and run after her.

The sun had begun to set by the time they returned to the castle.

"What about you?" she asked.

"What about me?" He parroted.

"What kind of woman do you want to marry?"

"It's not really up to me Merlin, now is it?"

"But if it were?"

"It's not." He said firmly, "At least you have a choice. I will have to marry the person who is best for Camelot.  _But_ " He humored, "I would hope that the future queen of Camelot is wise, strong, compassionate," he considered for a moment ". . . beautiful."

She smacked him upside the head.

"What?" He asked, "I'm just being honest!"

"Well, she better be a good one." Merlin said pointedly, "Since I will also have to spend the rest of my life with her."

Arthur smiled and shook his head, "I'll do my best. But don't worry, I'll ask your permission before I ask hers."

Merlin smiled back as they re-entered the Great Hall. A warm bubble of happiness pushed itself into her chest and she wasn't sure why she felt so good about Arthur's new promise.

After a routine dinner, Merlin and Arthur returned to his chambers for a well-earned night's sleep.

* * *

Merlin awoke with a jolt. Someone magical was in Camelot. She inhaled deeply as she sat up and tried to get a better hold on her surroundings.

A powerful warlock, indeed. His magic was dark and strong, clogging the air like thick black smoke. Merlin dressed and armed herself quickly, trying to open her door as quietly as she could. She stepped into Arthur's room, keeping a look out for any possible sources of noise.

Cautiously, she tiptoed out of her room and past his bed. She watched his chest rise and fall, steady, peaceful, entirely unaware of the magical world that threatened his life at every turn.

Whispering, she spelled a dome of impenetrable energy around Arthur as she always did when she left him alone.

Merlin pulled her cloak hood over her face, walking through the hallways as she followed the source of the magic. She found the source inside of an old alley. It was a man.

"What are your intentions in Camelot?" Her voice was quiet but strong.

He turned around slowly.

"Are you speaking to me?" He inquired. His faced was covered in burn marks.

"Indeed I am, sir."

"Why my Lady, I am here only to look for work."

"And what is your trade?"

"Physician, my Lady."

Her eyes narrowed.

"You are lying."

"I assure you I am not."

"Be honest with me, friend, and I will grant you clemency."

"My Lady is generous and rather familiar, I might add. But unfortunately, I have nothing more to say to you."

In less than a minute, Merlin's sword was it his neck. She stared into his eyes.

"I'm offering to be your friend. You  _don't_  want to be my enemy. Now tell me. What. Are. You. Doing. In. Camelot?"

He said nothing. She pushed her sword forward, but still the man revealed nothing.

Just as Merlin turned to walk away, his eyes flashed gold with an attack that Merlin immediately reflected back onto him.

He smashed onto the ground behind him and Merlin held him in place with a spell of her own.

"I asked you what your intentions are. You have lied to me. I shall give you one last chance."

"We," he gasped from the ground, clutching at his abdomen, "We are kin! You are powerful, my Lady. But I could teach you more."

"Could you?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow. Holding out one hand she held him in a choke hold, levitating him into the air.

He clawed at his throat, gasping for air. As he struggled a box fell out of his cloak.

She summoned the box to the hand that was not magically holding the sorcerer in the air. She looked mockingly towards the box.

"Perhaps  _this_  will reveal your secrets to me?" She asked. She whispered a spell to open the box, but the lid would not budge.

"Will you unlock this for me?" She asked.

The man only gasped and choked.

She tilted her head, "I'll have to take that as a 'no.' Very well then." Her eyes glowed and the box burst into flames.

She dumped the ashes and the sorcerer onto the ground.

"Now tell me, what are your intentions in Camelot?"

He coughed and massaged his throat, "Revenge." He spat out.

"Against whom?"

"The King."

"And his son?"

"The entire Pendragon line must die!" He choked out.

"Nothing will persuade you otherwise?"

"No." He growled out.

Merlin shook her head as she pulled out her true and steady dagger.

"Wrong answer."

With a single strike to the man's heart, he was dead within minutes. Merlin set the body to flames and returned to the castle only when she was certain that the threat was now only ashes.

She returned to Arthur's chamber and sat on his windowsill until sunrise, unable to close her eyes without the nameless sorcerers face burning against the insides of her eyelids.

* * *

"You haven't eaten anything." Arthur noted during breakfast.

"I know."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

A beat.

"Well I was hoping to go hunting this morn, so maybe that will take your mind off of whatever has you so laconic,  _Mer_ lin."

She nodded to show that she understood and Arthur grimaced. It was not exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. Sometimes he thought he knew her, other times Arthur thought, he knew nothing about Merlin at all.

* * *

Merlin followed Arthur silently through the woods, handing him the appropriate weapon for each of his prey.

"You know, Merlin, most of my knights would be thrilled to spend a private hunting session with the crowned prince of Camelot."

"I'm not one of your knights." She reminded him, "And besides it hardly seems like good sportsmanship when one side has weapons and horses and the other has nothing. Even the ones that attack us, they have no idea what they're doing, do they? No idea that they are like ants to us, waiting to be killed with a single blow."

"Are we still talking about hunting?" Arthur hedged.

"Of course, what else would we be talking about?" Merlin returned.

"Well, you and I are the only—"

He was cut off by a high pitched scream.

"Did you hear that?" He asked.

Merlin nodded.

Together they followed the noise and happened upon a circle of bandits attacking two travelers. Merlin and Arthur quickly dispatched the bandits.

The victims were a father and daughter pair each of whom carried oddly magical-looking staffs. Merlin was skeptical.

The daughter was pretty, Merlin would grant her that, but rather simpering and pathetic too if her reaction to the bandits was any indication to go by.

Arthur lapped up their entire story and seemed enthralled with Sophia. Merlin tried (and failed) not to roll her eyes.

Sophia smiled saccharinely at Merlin as she and her father Aulfric followed Arthur out of the woods.

Arthur may have been fooled by a pretty face, Merlin thought, but she was not. They were all the same: greedy, petty, vapid creatures who only wanted Arthur for his title. Well she would be damned if she let them sink their claws in.

 


End file.
